Vis à Vis
by Reaper Nanashi
Summary: -WIP- Naruto always knew he'd had parents once, but came to realize that of the musing he'd done, he'd never imagined what they looked like. Now he has to get home without giving away that he's technically not who everyone thinks he is—the son of Konoha's beloved Yondaime Hokage. Yet between his own heart and the Fourth's intelligence, it seems that won't be as easy as he'd hoped.
1. Definite Inconsistencies

**Author's Notes: **This is a **rewrite** of _Door Number Two_. The emphasis will hopefully clear up any confusion. Why, you ask, am I rewriting a fic I haven't even finished? Well, the fact is that I am absolutely and irrevocably **stuck** on _DNT_. I can't take it any further because even though I know where I want it to go I don't know how to get it there, and that either means that I'm a really bad writer or that _DNT_ was just so riddled with problems that it has finally ground itself to a halt. Not to mention that my laptop, which is still currently refusing to even so much as turn on, contains my most recent musings on _DNT_. At any rate, this rewrite is intended to do one or more of the following: 1.) Maybe shake loose the rest of _DNT_ from my recalcitrant head; 2.) Give you poor people **something** to read, even if I can only manage to put one chapter out each month; 3.) Completely replace _DNT_ as a superior examination of the concept and characters (whether _DNT_ would be removed has yet to be decided).

**Title:** _Vis-à-Vis_ (a.k.a. _Door Number Two: Reopened_)

**Author:** Reaper Nanashi (Lady Shinigami)

**Pairing(s):** Eventual SasuSaku (though nothing of real interest to OTP shippers); parental musings of NaruHina; _possibly_ ItaShin (_maybe_, if I get around to it and there's interest)

**Word Count:** 4088 (**Total:** 4088)

**Genre:** Drama (_Bildungsroman_; story of maturation – psychological/moral development – of principal character)

**Type:** Multi-Chapter (Work in Progress)

**Rating:** T (bad words, sexual innuendos, blood, violence)

**Spoilers:** Oh yes (my apologies to those of you who were so appreciative of _DNT_'s non-spoiler-ness)

**Date Submitted:** 7/10/08

**Claimer/Disclaimer:** What's mine is mine and what's not mine is somebody else's.

**Summary:** Naruto was well aware that, at least at one time, he had had parents; he had just never really given it much thought beyond the idle daydream. Depending on his mood at those times, his parents had either loved him or hated him, and the myriad theories on what had happened to them were based primarily on those two choices. But with a man in front of him who could easily have been him in about fifteen years, Naruto realized that of all the musing he had done in years past he had, oddly, never tried to imagine what his parents looked like. _Not that I could have ever imagined something like __**this**__ . . ._

**The Reasoning Behind It:** As you may recall from _DNT_, I made note of the number of Naruto-gets-a-family fics that were either badly-written, unfinished, or both. The one (at the time) exception to this was QuestofDreams and Lazuli's _Parallels_, which I highly recommend unless you happen to be homophobic or are otherwise uninterested in boy love, because it's a SasuNaruSasu pairing. Don't say I didn't warn you. At any rate, this fic was written with the intention of giving Naruto-with-a-family goodness to **all** the fans of our favorite blond delinquent – there's nothing wrong with fics containing homosexuality, of course, but it isn't something everyone goes for, either – so I hope you enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter 1**** – Definite Inconsistencies**

* * *

_A middle-aged blonde woman sat comfortably in an old rocking chair, her first grandchild cradled in her arms. "Once upon a time, in a distant age of magic and mystery, there were two almost identical countries ruled by two powerful and wise kings who somehow looked exactly alike. Death had cruelly separated them and Life had forced their minds to grow apart, but deep down in their hearts they never forgot each other and both kings devoted much of their time and energy to finding that other country with that other king even though neither could imagine what he was really searching for. As a result, Death kept them separated and Life pushed them farther apart every day, but the kings struggled onward. To this day they remain in a subtle limbo, unable to reach one another and thus unable to truly live even as the years pass them by."_

"_Mom," the woman's son said as he entered the room, "that's a horrible story."_

"_Oh?" she responded, thoughtful. "You liked it when you were little."_

"_I remember," he assured her, "but . . . it strikes a bit too close to home."_

_She sighed. "Perhaps, but it's not like __**you'll**__ ever tell him about your brother."_

_He sighed explosively. _"_Mom! I love you, but it's hardly your business what I tell __**my**__ son about my family. Besides, hearing about his dead uncle isn't going to do him any good – there's no __**reason**__ for me to tell him. It's depressing and there are thousands of better things to take up the head space that— . . . Oh, Mom, __**please**__ don't look at me like that! I'm not trying to disrespect you and I'm __**not**__ in denial! I just don't see the __**point**__!"_

_Sternly, she reminded her grown child, "Your brother is still part of this family, even dead."_

"_Of __**course**__ he is!" her son protested, offended at the implication that he did not care._

"_It's nothing to be ashamed of."_

"_I am __**not**__ ashamed of something that neither of us could control! But Mom, the only people who absolutely __**must**__ know about him are you and myself. That's it. Telling others about him serves no purpose whatsoever; no one else had the chance to know him and it would only make them feel awkward to be aware of what happened to him. If you go around telling the whole village, you're only sensationalizing an extremely private tragedy and I will neither appreciate nor tolerate that kind of cheapening of his memory, no matter how little of it there is!"_

_She looked away from her son to her grandson for a moment. "That's very harsh."_

_Her son let out a frustrated breath. "Mom, __**don't**__ do this to him. My brother is __**dead**__. Let him rest. I promise that I'll acknowledge him should it ever come up; Naruto may not __**need**__ to know but he does have a right to, and I will tell him everything I know about his uncle if something ever happens to bring it up."_

_She pursed her lips, but did not argue. Indeed, her son was an adult and such choices had become ones he had to make for himself, without interference. ". . . All right, have it your way. But I hope you'll be able to tell him without hurting yourself, otherwise you'll frighten him and everyone else who loves you."_

"_I'll be __**fine**__, Mom," her son promised gently. "I've made it this long, haven't I?"_

* * *

"Were you here all night?"

Sasuke looked up from the white tile floor, his dark eyes suspicious. "They were trying to take him off life support. Why?"

Tsunade shrugged. "How should I know?"

He frowned. "I know you do."

"Actually," she countered, annoyed, "I don't. However, I have a good guess and if it's right then you'll be informed in the event that it pertains to you. It's not important."

"They wanted him to _die_!" Sasuke snapped, furious that she was so flippant.

"Point out the ones responsible and I'd be happy to . . . have words with them," she said ominously. "Now I assume you were the one who found him?"

Sasuke settled back in his chair, unsatisfied. "Yes. In field nine."

"Were you looking for him?"

"Yes."

"Why?" she probed.

"We agreed to meet for lunch and train in field four. When he didn't show up, I went looking for him."

"Why did you check the fields?"

He shrugged one shoulder. "He told me he had one booked until yesterday. He's so anal about training that it seemed the most likely place to find him."

"Where were you the day before yesterday?" she asked bluntly.

He stared at her blankly. ". . . Are you joking?"

She shook her head. "I have to assume everyone is guilty."

Oddly, that appeared to be a good enough explanation for him. Perhaps his closeness to Naruto meant that he approved of that particular view. "I sparred with Kakashi-sensei in the morning, roughly from eight to fourteen hundred, and then was stalked and nearly molested by Sakura and Ino all evening."

"_All_ evening?" Tsunade pressed.

Sasuke frowned again, more deeply, and explained defensively, "They kept _finding_ me . . ." He noticed her expression and glared. "It's _not_ funny."

Tsunade kept careful control of her face. Even if they ended up happily married to men other than Sasuke, Sakura and Ino would probably continue to swoon over him for the rest of his life, much as he surely tried to ignore them. Still, age had taught the girls subtlety; though they were not perfect at it, they were nevertheless slowly getting better. Eventually it would get to a point where it would be barely noticeable, but until then he would just have to take it like a man. "Was I laughing?"

He scowled violently. "You may as well have been."

"Right," she replied sarcastically, well aware that he hated being talked down to. "Well, I want you to go home and get some sleep for now. I expect a full report on my desk by tomorrow evening. And while you're at it, you better tell Iruka. None of us will hear the end of it otherwise."

"What about Naruto?" he demanded instantly.

"He'll be fine."

"_They tried to take him off life support_," Sasuke growled.

"Did you ever think," Tsunade pointed out, "that he didn't need it?"

He stared her in disbelief. "Didn't _need_ it? Maybe you haven't noticed, but Naruto manages to shake off virtually everything that hurts him. If he gets to a point where he's unconscious, he _needs_ life support."

She snorted. "Maybe _you_ haven't noticed, but Naruto is hardier than that."

"When I found him," Sasuke grated angrily, "he had no pulse and was not breathing. I had to give him CPR for ten minutes. I think that warrants at least a night's worth of life support."

Tsunade blinked, surprised. "Excuse me?" It was a standard rhetorical question, so Sasuke did not bother to repeat himself. "Why the hell did you find it unnecessary to mention that before?"

"I mistakenly believed you were an iryounin and that you would understand," he said scathingly.

Before Tsunade could completely open her mouth to retort, the readings on the monitors around Naruto's bed began to shift. Rather than flaying Sasuke verbally, she moved to the side of the bed he was not occupying and reported, "He's waking up."

Sasuke impatiently stood back and let her work, but his dark eyes were riveted on his friend's face. After a moment Tsunade straightened up and unfocused blue eyes cracked open. They slid slowly to either side, blinked just as slowly, and opened a bit wider. Even when they were finally fully open they still looked half closed because of the sheer exhaustion apparent in them. Once more they shifted to either side, but that time when they fell on Sasuke they stayed, and he leaned in as Naruto's mouth moved beneath the mask that had been providing air. The syllables were whispered and hard to hear over the _hiss-thunk_ of the oxygen pump, but when he made them out Sasuke knew that something was terribly wrong.

". . . U . . . chiha . . . -san . . . Pl . . . Please . . . father . . ."

Naruto passed out after that, absolving Sasuke of the need to reply, and the Uchiha heir sank back into the seat he had been in for nearly a full day.

"What did he say?" Tsunade asked.

Sasuke's brows drew together in confusion. "I think . . . I think he was asking me to find his father."

Tsunade stared hard at him. "That was it?"

Sasuke tilted his head in a half shake and said, "He . . . He called me 'Uchiha-san'."

Hearing courtesy from Naruto was wrong on multiple levels. The blond had never in his life been polite to anybody; not even Sandaime or Tsunade, though he had done his best to be civil in front of Sakura. As usual, Naruto did things backwards – he only offered a semblance of politeness after everyone _else_ was polite to _him_ first, though by the time things got to that point people mainly just accepted him and his unintentional rudeness. Not that he could really be blamed, since nobody had bothered to school him in even the basics of socialization until Iruka, and he obviously could have been a total saint and the village still would have hated him. After seeing the village's cruelty, Sasuke hardly blamed him five years later – even in _his_ eyes it would not have been worth it to put in the effort to behave himself in any sense.

Tsunade frowned. After several minutes of deliberation, she said, "Stay here until I send someone."

Sasuke, having been anything but eager to be sent to bed like a recalcitrant child to start with, immediately settled in his chair again and watched the Godaime exit the room.

* * *

A week and a half later there was clearly something _very_ wrong, and it was residing in room two-thirty-six of Konoha Hospital.

The thing was, Sasuke had studied Naruto before. It was nothing like a secret fascination or silent affection; he could hardly have helped it because any good warrior examined his opponent at every available opportunity to identify strengths and weaknesses. Since Naruto was strong enough to be one of Sasuke's few recurring adversaries, the Uchiha heir was able to learn more about the blond with each encounter.

One thing was his physical appearance. Where most people blended into a landscape Naruto always popped out of it, even when he was not making the effort to be noticed. It was not simply his clothes, which over time were becoming less orange – though the orange still present was compensating by being notably brighter. It was more his vivid lemon-blond hair in its hedgehog spines, which he kept short – with a kunai, much to Sakura's horror and Iruka's exasperation – because he admitted he would be too lazy to keep it trimmed properly if he let it get longer. It was also his rich blue eyes, which Sasuke had never seen anyone else come close to matching, that grew to a slightly paler shade when he was intensely focused or intensely angry. Despite that, however, Naruto could somehow vanish into any crowd anywhere and not be seen; overall it was probably the most dangerous skill he possessed.

Naruto was simply a walking conundrum, and if anyone ever told him that he would probably be as pleased with himself as he usually was when he learned he had flustered someone. Assuming, of course, that he knew the definition of 'conundrum'.

So Sasuke had studied his friend. Therefore, Sasuke was _more_ than certain that the purple tint the blond's eyes possessed had definitely not been there earlier. He worried that it was a sign of the kyuubi's influence, though he would have been more worried if Naruto's pupils had been vertically slit like he had seen them before. But other than that, his sudden politeness, and some kind of memory problem, Naruto seemed perfectly normal.

Physically, at any rate.

Tsunade rubbed her sinuses. "I'm sorry, Naruto. May we do this one more time?"

The blond sighed tiredly. "Yes ma'am."

"Thank you. Name?"

"Namikaze Naruto."

There was a perceptible shift in the people standing in the room, as there had been every other time.

"Affiliation?"

"Konohagakure."

"ID number?"

Since she had not been more specific with the request, Naruto readily and easily recited both his citizen and shinobi numbers, which were the same ones he had always had but which he had not been able to fully recall just the week before when Sakura had asked for them.

"Rank?"

"Genin."

"Age?"

"Twelve."

Saying he was five years younger than he actually was had been strange enough, particularly since he was most definitely not in a twelve-year-old body, but that could have been reasonably considered confusion from a hard – _really_ hard, seeing as it was Naruto – knock on the head. Stranger than that, though, was that when he was asked his address he always gave that of the Hokage's manor above the Monument. No one doubted that his dedication to being Hokage had included knowing that address, but to be convinced he had lived there for most of his life was the part that concerned them.

"Birthday?"

"October tenth."

"What happened on that day?"

Naruto tilted his head and frowned, like he had both times before. ". . . I was born."

"Nothing else of significance occurred?" Tsunade pressed. "Like an attack?"

Naruto's frown deepened. ". . . No."

"All right. Favorite food?"

"Beef ramen."

"Blood type?"

"B. I don't remember the Rh factor."

"Thank you," Tsunade said again, and dropped her face into her hands with a tired sigh of her own.

Naruto looked around at the hospital room and its many occupants. It was rather alarming how he did not appear to recognize most of the people there except as passing acquaintances, especially Sakura and the rest of their immediate peers, who had dropped in briefly to see him. He had known their names and where he remembered them from – academy classes and village encounters, not all of which were accurate, it appeared – but nothing about the chuunin exams or missions they had taken together at various times.

"Hey," Naruto said suddenly, "if you're asking me all of these things about myself, why haven't you asked me about my parents and sister too?"

Iruka made an odd choking noise.

"Tell me about them," Tsunade replied, instantly but genially.

"My mother's name is Hotaru," Naruto began, lightly and mostly cheerfully. "I don't know her surname – I've never been told because Dad said that her father was an asshole and didn't deserve any recognition. My father is Namikaze Arashi, Yondaime Hokage of Konohagakure. The jounin and some of the chuunin sometimes call him the 'Fox Lord' when he's not around, but I don't know why unless it has something to do with Kyuubi-neesan."

Tsunade leaped on that. "'Kyuubi-neesan'?"

Naruto nodded. "The civilians don't know because they might get scared, but one time Dad saved a kyuubi from being attacked and killed by some villagers somewhere to the north. She behaves herself and has helped him out a few times, so he lets her stay in the forests around Konoha."

"_She_?"

"Yes."

"I see. And your sister?"

Something dark and ugly crossed Naruto's face very briefly, and Sasuke felt an unhappy flutter in his gut. He knew that look quite well, having seen it in his own face.

Jealousy.

With a double-take, though, it was completely gone. Whatever was going on, at least attempting to hide his emotions from others was clearly a tendency that had lingered. "Oh," Naruto said. "My sister is Akiko. She's almost three. Mom wants her to be a lady, but, eh . . ." He rubbed the back of his head in a painfully familiar gesture. ". . . it seems like she'd rather be a kunoichi." He suddenly yawned. ". . . 'Scuse me."

Tsunade stood up. "I thank you for your time and appreciate your patience. Please get some rest."

"'Kay." Naruto promptly relaxed into the propped up bed and fell asleep with his usual speed.

Sakura wrung her hands absently. "Tsunade-sama, what . . .?"

"I don't know," the Godaime replied, not bothering to conceal her confusion. "If this is some prank – which I'm beginning to doubt – then he's doing a damn good job at it, overall."

"Overall?" Sakura pressed.

"There are inconsistencies," Kakashi agreed thoughtfully. "Some more obvious than others. The Fourth did have a nickname, but he was never known as any kind of fox lord even after defeating the kyuubi. His wife's father was a shinobi of a country that no longer exists, and he died in an effort to protect Sandaime-sama not too long after arriving here. Yondaime-sama had not fully assumed the duties of the Hokage at the time but he was in training, so he attended the funeral; that was where he first met his wife, though she punched him in the face because she had misinterpreted something he said."

Sakura rolled her eyes. "That sounds exactly like how Naruto's family would be – fight first, think later." She then stopped and blinked. "Wait . . . Then . . .?"

"Then?" Kakashi prompted, and it was clear that he was smiling under his mask.

"Speaking of assholes . . ." Sasuke muttered.

The jounin made a dismissive motion in his once-student's direction without even bothering to look over.

Sakura's eyes were wide. ". . . Is Naruto really the son of the Fourth Hokage?!"

Sasuke blinked. It was actually a strange thought, which was exactly why he had not considered it himself; he had never known Naruto to be anything other than an orphan. In truth, Naruto was _the_ orphan – Konoha's poster child for the victims of the kyuubi that the fox had not done any physical harm to, as well as for parentless children everywhere else. _Everybody_ knew he was an orphan and Naruto had always taken pride in that – proof that he could get by on his own, whether or not people liked him.

It was, of course, impossible for Naruto to exist if he had not had parents at _some_ point, but Sasuke had just not given it any thought. He realized then, with a pang of self-recrimination, that he had never even _bothered_ to find Naruto's parents. Sure, Naruto – at least supposedly – had no idea of their names or faces or whether they were alive or dead, but certainly they were _surrounded_ by people who would know or would have access to records that would be able to say one way or another. Though, on the other hand, Naruto had not really expressed much of an interest in knowing, and that was mostly why Sasuke had not made the attempt; with the blond not harping on it, searching for something never mentioned had not exactly been on Sasuke's to-do list.

In the end, Sasuke still might not have believed had he found the truth. It was extremely difficult to equate Naruto in any way with the Fourth Hokage, who had been hailed as a genius despite having no kekkei genkai to rely on. Naruto, on the other hand, was anything _but_ a genius aside from the few painfully unrelated leaps of intelligent strategy Sasuke had witnessed. Age and experience had allowed him to _feign_ genius, but that was all.

"Yes," Kakashi said in response to Sakura's shrill guess, with a level of calmness and a muted evil delight that should have put him in prison, the bastard.

Sakura made a high-pitched sound reminiscent of air leaving a balloon.

Sasuke shot to his feet, furious. "Why the hell didn't you ever tell him?!"

Kakashi's expression flattened in disapproval. He had definitely not missed Sasuke's unspoken accusation of the deliberate withholding of information. "The Fourth left two standing orders before he died. The first was that Naruto was to be seen as a hero for his sacrifice. The second was that Naruto's heritage was to be kept from him as well as the rest of the world until such a time when he had established himself as a person, to protect him from both enemy shinobi and the shadows of the Fourth's own accomplishments."

"What sacrifice?" Sakura asked blankly.

"A sacrifice that allowed you to live the life you currently have," the jounin hedged artfully.

Sasuke glanced at the rest of the room to make sure their peers were not present. Sai was there, but he had already been told by Danzou, who had not cared about the Third's proclamations of silence. "The kyuubi."

All of the adults turned to him as Sakura blinked and said, "_Ohhh_ . . . Duh."

"Who told you that?" Tsunade demanded sharply.

"Nobody who should have," Sasuke snapped back angrily. "I've been in Naruto's head with him; I saw that thing trying to screw him up."

Tsunade turned to Sakura, who explained calmly, "When we went to retrieve Gaara after he was abducted by Akatsuki . . . Naruto takes a lot on his shoulders, but he seemed to be a bit more torn up than was necessary over a friend's death. 'Bijuu' and 'jinchuuriki' . . . He didn't seem to like those words all that much. Add to that the fact that the kyuubi attacked and was subdued all on October tenth, the village's dislike of him, the strange way his eyes would turn and change when he was mad . . . It wasn't all that hard to put together, even before he admitted it to me." She shrugged. "I just forgot until now."

"_Forgot_?" Shizune asked incredulously.

Sakura shrugged again, philosophically. "Well, he's always had it, right? And the difference between them is obvious; it almost never crosses my mind."

"Who else knows?" Tsunade questioned.

"Shikamaru," Sakura replied. "But I think that he was told because it was considered a requirement as the leader of an assignment, and he's both too lazy and smart enough to not blurt it to everyone without reason. Other than him, nobody I know of."

Sai raised his hand. "Danzou told me."

"That doesn't surprise me in the slightest," she muttered, and massaged her sinuses for what seemed to be the millionth time that day. "All right, well, now that you know you should _also_ know that the Third Hokage penned a law stating that the kyuubi's whereabouts are _never_ to be discussed freely, even amongst those who know. I'll let Naruto decide that last part, but as for the other you have two choices: be silent, or be silenced."

"Yes ma'am," Sakura agreed dutifully.

Sai said nothing while Sasuke snorted. "What, like he doesn't get spit on enough as things are?"

"Just _don't_," the Fifth Hokage growled.

Sasuke sighed and rolled his eyes in annoyance until they fell on not-Naruto. ". . . His eyes are purple, like the fox's chakra is right under the surface."

"I saw it," Tsunade snapped. "Unfortunately, he doesn't even think it attacked Konoha, so I seriously doubt he knows anything about it. The only thing we can do is question him when he wakes up. Yamato—"

"_I'll_ stay," Sasuke argued firmly. When she stared at him narrowly, he said only, "It was originally under the guardianship of my clan, wasn't it? And he barely seems to be able to recognize anybody else anyway. It would probably be better for him to wake up to somebody he at least _thinks_ he knows."

Tsunade frowned, looked out the window at the star-speckled sky, then at the clock on the wall to her right. "Fine," she decided, "but don't be a macho smartass. You've been watching him for two days. If something happens and you can't handle it, _call for help_. Yamato can get its chakra in a bind."

Sasuke nodded solemnly, though he was confident in his control. That and Naruto had reported once that the fox seemed to view him – however irreverently – as big medicine despite that he had not made any serious effort to put it down for something. "I will."

Which was the truth, because if Sasuke could _not_ stop the fox then Naruto would never forgive himself if the kyuubi used his body to destroy Konoha, and Sasuke did not want to be the one to reveal that not everything that could have been done had been. Worse, the idiot probably would not bother to think about his spur-of-the-moment plans before he attempted something infinitely stupid to atone for the perceived failure, like jumping from a cliff or committing ritual suicide. Naruto was truly his own harshest judge, and he had to be protected from himself just as much as – possibly more than – anyone else in the world.

* * *

To be continued in . . . **Chapter 2**** – Lucid Dreaming**

_Oh, __**swell**__,_ Sarcasm hissed. Sarcasm was generally drowned out by Kyuubi, who was more than scathing enough for Naruto's needs, but whenever Kyuubi did not bother to speak up, Sarcasm was right there waiting to take up the reins. Sarcasm was not quite on the same level of vicious bitterness as Kyuubi, though, so Naruto had less trouble with it than the fox. And he could simply tune out that part of himself, while Kyuubi's imposing presence was a bit harder to dismiss. _No wonder you're such a __**superb**__ shinobi!_

* * *

**Answers To Questions You Didn't Even Know You Wanted To Ask:**

**Title: **_**Vis-à-Vis**_** (a.k.a. **_**Door Number Two: Reopened**_**)**

In a review I received **ages** ago, someone mentioned that s/he would have read _DNT_ a lot sooner if s/he had not thought that "Door Number Two" meant the fic was a game show. The summary obviously does not convey the idea of a game show, but I myself have very often searched for interesting fics by title first, and only read the summary if the title caught my eyes. Besides that, with the way Kyuubi explains things, the parallelverse could actually be _Door Number 187,456,394,563_ for all we know.

When I initially began rewriting _DNT_, I added "Reopened" for the sake of telling the two apart and to be subtly but still obnoxiously clever (Get it? _Door Number Two_ has been _Reopened_). I have since decided to change the title entirely to _Vis-à-Vis_ (pronounced: "veez-ah-vee(z)"), which is a French phrase defined in my prehistoric dictionary as: "_**prep.**_ 1) face to face with; opposite to 2) in comparison with or in relation to" as well as: "_**n.**_, _pl._ 1a) a person who is face to face with another b) one's opposite number or counterpart". This is not a perfectly appropriate name for the fic either, as not **everything** in parallelverse is exactly the opposite of canonverse, but the two Narutos **are** quite opposite of each other and readers of _DNT_ already know how they actually get along.

Interestingly, _vis_ is also Latin for "force" and/or "strength", which is probably how the French ended up using it in the above context (if that doesn't make any sense, you're going to have to look up the etymology of the word on your own – I don't have the room to explain it here – and consider the type of people who generally spoke Latin).

———

**"I sparred with Kakashi-sensei in the morning, roughly from eight to fourteen hundred … "**

I have decided that shinobi operate on military time. This is hardly an invention of mine – I've seen it in dozens of other fics – I've just jumped on the bandwagon. For those of you who might not know, military time operates on a single twenty-four-hour period rather than two twelve-hour periods. So what is 9:00 a.m. to a civilian is 0900 (hours) military time and what is 9:00 p.m. is 2100 (hours) military time; the military day begins at 0000 **or** 2400 (a.k.a. midnight) and ends at 2359 (a.k.a. 11:59 p.m.). The basic math behind this is the number twelve: before 1200 hours, a civilian can more or less determine the time because it's only a matter of there being an extra zero and no colon; after 1200 hours, all someone has to do is add civilian time to twelve to get military time – i.e. 1:00 p.m. plus twelve is 13:00 or 1300 hours, 2:00 p.m. plus twelve is 14:00 or 1400 hours, 5:00 p.m. plus twelve is 17:00 or 1700 hours, and so on.

———

**"I apparently mistakenly believed you were an iryounin and that you would understand," **

For the confused, an _iryounin_ is a shinobi specializing in medical techniques. Tsunade is an iryounin, as are Shizune and Sakura (later).

———

**"Konohagakure."**

For you who are somehow blissfully uninitiated, _Konohagakure_ is a shortened form of _Konohagakure no Sato_, which translates to "Village Hidden in (the) Leaves". _Konohagakure_ would, then, mean "Hidden Leaf/Leaves". _Konoha_, by itself, would then be "Leaf".

———

**"B. I don't remember the Rh factor."**

In the blood-type-and-personality profiling I've read up on, Rhesus factors are never mentioned. This is presumably because the factor is either a) too small to significantly affect one's personality, or simply because b) the factors were not discovered before the profiling was drawn up. Or, for that matter, a) could be considered a result of b). I do think it should be considered, though, because the Rh factor determines how blood types interact physically, and that could theoretically influence individual people of the same blood type. If you don't understand why I say this, go look up "Rh factor" in your favorite search engine and notice that there is a potential for trouble.

———

**"My mother's name is Hotaru," ; " … My father is Namikaze Arashi," ; "My sister is Akiko … "**

For those of you on the edge of your seats just **waiting** to tell me what Naruto's parents' actual canon names are, please **CHILL OUT**. I **already know**. Thank you.

Fans of _DNT_ probably recall that Naruto's little sister's name was Nyoko. I wanted to change it to something with a little more meaning, then to something more related to the Fourth, but my efforts didn't turn out well. Then I reread the chapter, and with that in mind I decided that Hotaru would technically be the one to name Nyoko/Akiko, and she would not necessarily give the Fourth all the credit. So Nyoko is now Akiko, and depending on how it's written it can mean "Sparkle Child", "Bright Child", or "Autumn Child".

———

**It was, of course, impossible for Naruto to exist if he had not had parents at **_**some**_** point, but Sasuke had just never thought about it … but certainly they were **_**surrounded**_** by people who would know or would have access to records that would say one way or another.**

Am I the only one who has ever wondered about this? I mean, if this part has any kind of canon truth miraculously lurking in it –

**Though, on the other hand, Naruto had never really expressed much of an interest in knowing, and that was why Sasuke had not made the attempt.**

– then okay, but Naruto definitely has the lungs to get something like that looked into if he was really curious. Even if **he** wouldn't be allowed into a record hall then **surely** he could badger someone he knew into doing it for him, unless his lack of concern led to this:

**It was a strange thought, which was exactly why he had not considered it himself; he had never known Naruto to be anything other than an orphan. In truth, Naruto was **_**the**_** orphan – Konoha's poster child …**

Really, **why** haven't Sakura or **Sasuke**, in particular, tried to find an answer to this? Canon!Sasuke is so jealous of Naruto that it would be one of the first things **I'd** look for, if I were him and first thought Naruto was too stupid to function only to find out how powerful he actually was. If Sasuke's such a genius, then why the hell did I think of this first?

———

**'Bijuu' and 'jinchuuriki' (and '(K/k)yuubi')**

For the uninformed, _bijuu_ are the tailed beasts – including Shukaku and the kyuubi – that the manicured goth members of Akatsuki are looking for. They are all very powerful manifestations of chakra and Kyuubi is said to be the strongest. A _jinchuuriki_ is someone, such as Gaara and Naruto, who is harboring one of the bijuu in his or her body.

_Kyuubi_ means "nine(-)tails", and – obviously – refers to the number of tails Kyuubi has (Shukaku, for example, is the _ichibi_, the "one(-)tail", and one tail is all he has). Ultimately, because "Kyuubi" is obviously not Kyuubi's true name (which is currently still unknown and may never be revealed), my capitalization of this word will depend on how it's used in a sentence. If someone is referring to Kyuubi directly then he will be addressed as "Kyuubi", but if he (or another nine-tailed fox) is being referred to simply as a creature with nine-tails, then he will be "the kyuubi".

———

**Worse, the idiot probably would not think about his spur-of-the-moment plans before he attempted something infinitely stupid to atone for the failure, like jumping from a cliff or committing ritual suicide.**

Please don't jump on me about how out of character this might be. Whether or not you think Naruto would actually do either of these things, no matter the scale of the failure, is irrelevant – Sasuke is only being hypothetical and, as is typical with him, overly dramatic.

——————————

It's time to play a quick game of _Draw Your Own Conclusion_! Everyone is more than a little on edge right now and are the ninja equivalent of "trigger-happy". If you review, you cannot fall victim to this unfortunate circumstance. Draw your own conclusion.

~RN (LS)


	2. Lucid Dreaming

**Author's Notes: _IMPORTANT!!_** For future reference, I **will** **not** be replying to individual anonymous reviews unless an e-mail address is left. I understand if you don't wish to leave an address – whether to avoid spam or whether you think I'm a forty-year-old pedophile – but this site looks down on cluttering space with review replies and it's grounds for the removal of the story in question. I tempted fate with _Door Number Two_ but am starting anew with _Vis-à-Vis_. Therefore, while I will **always** read and appreciate **all** reviews, anonymous reviews will remain **unanswered**. By extension, if you are a site member who chooses to review anonymously for whatever the reason, your review will also **not** be answered; if you are such and want a response, then please only review when you have the time to log in. With that said, I **will** respond to **legitimate** anonymous questions that might be brought up while reading, but only if the answer is or will not be available in the story at some point. By 'legitimate' I mean nothing that I already answered in an 'Answers To Questions' section, nothing referring to my update schedule, and not the one that makes me kick baby bunnies: "Why isn't there more action?" (Answer: Action in what is categorized as a _**drama**_ fic? _**Eventually**_, hot shots, and not a chapter before.).

**Word Count:** 5264 (**Total:** 9352)

**Date Submitted:** 8/16/08

* * *

**Chapter 2**** – Lucid Dreaming**

* * *

Something was wrong.

The 'something', he decided after a moment, was not based entirely in the realization that he was in pain or having trouble recalling the last thing he had been doing – both of which he was experiencing at that instant – but in the sense that the whole world felt utterly alien to him. Where cold fear and harsh hatred of him and his 'tenant' had mingled together and permeated the air of Konoha even when no one could see him, he received no such vibes from his new location. It felt _ordinary_.

It also meant that he could not have been in Konoha.

Naruto opened his eyes and made a visual survey of his immediate area. It was definitely a hospital, but the bed was much softer than he remembered it being and the room itself was generally more decorated and pleasant to look at than any other one he had ever been placed in. A rather large vase of fresh, colorful flowers – most of which he could not identify since they had no medicinal value – sat on a bedside table and the curtains hanging around the window on the far side of the room were a warm pastel blue. There was plenty of room for another bed, but the only thing there was a comfy-looking futon that appeared very much slept in.

It had probably been Iruka. No one else cared quite that much – or they rested assured that he would be all right no matter what he went through – and even if they had they would not have had enough time to spare. So many shinobi had died over the past five years that Konoha was struggling to both maintain a strong front and keep her head above the financial waters, and as a result few people had time for personal niceties like sleep. But for those who kept their ears open and mouth shut, Kakashi and some of the older warhorses could be overheard likening it to the Ninja Wars, just with somewhat less of a worry about any actual conflict. No matter what it was like, it was still a very stressful time for everyone and Naruto did not expect a horde of friends to bunk in his hospital room to make sure he was going to survive whatever had happened. One person was enough.

He realized, suddenly, that he had to go to the bathroom _badly_ and so spent roughly two minutes carefully pulling needles and tubes out of his hands and arms and places too private to mention in polite conversation. Not for the first time, he was convinced that catheters were the invention of some sadist who had laughed for the whole walk to the bank. If the things had _not_ been such an invention then he saw no other logical reason for something so big to even exist, let alone fit somewhere so small.

The heart monitor shrilled a flat line and he winced at the obnoxious piercing tone as he shuffled sleepily across the polished floor and into the tiled bathroom that was, joy of joys, attached only to his room so that he did not have to share it with anyone else. Turning the unnecessarily bright overhead light on also activated a hidden vent that rattled rather noisily, but it made an almost pleasant counterpoint to the heart monitor so he did not mind it all that much. When he was done he flushed, washed his hands, rinsed the stagnant saliva out of his mouth, turned the light-vent off, and stepped straight out of the bathroom into writhing chaos. The room was absolutely _swarming_ with alarmed medical personnel and extremely agitated ninja.

He groaned; he _had_ been planning to go back to sleep. "Hey . . . _Hey_ . . ." Apparently he was not being loud enough, because not an eye flicked anywhere in his direction. Fortunately, he knew how to be heard, so he simply turned his voice up a few notches. "_HEY_!" That did it. All eyes were suddenly on him and the silence was complete aside from the heart monitor, which was still screaming for someone to turn it off. "Is it okay if I, you know, ask for some _peace_ and _quiet_ to _rest_?"

He expected to be scolded, muttered at, cursed. Anything but what _did_ happen.

"Thank _goodness_!"

A _strange woman_ was _hugging_ him.

He considered informing her that he had only the one set of lungs and was rather fond of them, but all that came out was a bewildered, "Uh . . ."

"Oh, sweetheart!" she cried, not panicked but still worried. "You scared us!"

Sweetheart.

It had to be a joke. He scowled and pushed her away from him fiercely. "Who are you?" he demanded, blue eyes snapping. "Who put you up to this?"

There was a startled silence and golden-brown eyes blinked at him in disbelief before the woman turned to the doctors and said accusingly, "You said he was all right!"

The three doctors present, all completely bewildered, looked at one another in blank shock and defended themselves with a stuttered, "But . . . there was no sign of psychological trauma . . ."

Naruto crossed his arms, annoyed at and impatient with the room in general. He could tell that it was some stupid joke; he had never seen any of the people there – the ninja included – before. He decided it was most likely a scheme of Kakashi's, meant to throw him off to teach him some kind of lesson.

The woman glared at the doctors. "Well, _obviously_—"

"Now now, Hotaru, don't point fingers yet."

Naruto looked up to identify the new voice and felt the blood drain from his face.

"See?!" the woman insisted. "He doesn't recognize you either!"

"Actually, I think he does." A hand clapped down onto Naruto's blond head and ruffled his hair with rough, almost boyish affection. "You know who I am, kiddo?"

He swallowed and nodded dazedly, then watched the world tilt dangerously. He did not normally faint, but at the same time he could not exactly blame himself.

"Whoa, kid. Easy."

Arms – warm, gentle, comforting arms – slid around him and picked him up with great care. Even though it was doubtless not the brightest idea he had ever had, he was so completely starved for that kind of tenderness that he found himself leaning into the embrace and was distinctly upset when he was placed on the bed, no matter how soft it was. Frantic, he reached out for the man's sleeve and pulled on it. "Don't go," he pleaded, hating to sound so weak and frightened but seeing no other way to keep that warm feeling close.

No, what he really needed was _information_. He commanded himself to get a grip; it was no time to act like a clingy brat, especially under the circumstances.

The woman – Hotaru – brushed his hair back. "Honey, your father has to—"

Naruto's eyes darted back to the man who had been holding him and he nearly passed out again. No one had ever mentioned anything like that in his earshot, but he had to admit that there _was_ a resemblance.

"No, Hotaru," the man interjected softly, "it's all right. If my staying for will help him feel better then I can certainly spare a few minutes." She hesitated and he assured her, "It'll be fine. You really should go see your friend like you were planning to and when you come back I'll go in and try to cut into that paperwork on my desk. After all, if there's one constant in the universe paperwork is it; I'm not missing anything. So go on, and we'll just have our man-to-man time while you're out."

Hotaru sighed. ". . . All right. You win." She leaned in and pressed a gentle, unhesitating kiss to Naruto's forehead. "Get some rest, sweetie."

"Okay . . . Mom?" he choked out awkwardly, hoping it did not sound as strange to them as it did to him. He had _parents_.

That was, of course, not the brightest thought he had ever had. Naruto knew very well that he had parents, otherwise he would not have existed at all. Though he supposed he _could_ have been part of someone's forbidden jutsu project, like what Orochimaru did in his spare time. Naruto grimaced mentally at the concept that he might be even less normal than he already was. If he was, he never wanted to know.

That aside, Naruto was certain he had parents; he had just never really given it much thought beyond the idle daydream. Depending on his mood at those times his parents had either loved him or hated him, and the myriad theories on what had happened to them were based primarily on those two choices. But with a man in front of him who could easily have been him in about fifteen years, Naruto realized that of all the musing he had done in years past he had, oddly, never tried to imagine what his parents looked like. Compared to not having parents at all, their appearances had hardly seemed important and he had dismissed the need for any.

Not that he could have imagined anything like _that_, he had to admit. He could not recall seeing a constant image of the man anywhere but on the Monument, which did not exactly display any form of full color spectrum. Or even conform to reality, if what he was seeing was any proof.

Once his mother had gone, his father dismissed the ninja still present while the doctors performed various checks on Naruto's unhappy person, presumably to make sure he had not done himself harm while answering the call of nature. "My apologies for the false alarm, gentlemen." The masked ninja hanging bat-like around the room saluted and vanished, and the doctors exited shortly after.

His father turned to him. "So, kiddo, you say you know me. How so?"

Naruto tried to keep his new grimace in his head like he had the first and wondered how he was supposed to lie to such a person. "Er . . . What do you mean?" Well, naturally, _that_ was not the slightest bit suspicious; he was clearly off to a roaring start.

Ice-blue eyes, distinctly paler than Naruto's own, watched him sharply but without any visible skepticism. "Considering your reaction upon first seeing me and then your response to your mother's apparent revelation that I'm your father, you didn't recognize me as such."

Naruto wanted desperately to say, 'It's because you're _dead_!' and go along in that vein until he was blue in the face, but he had to be careful. He was finally thinking a bit more cautiously and was beginning to believe that his situation was more than a bad practical joke. It seemed to have traits that better suited an enemy genjutsu meant to wind him up and break him down; a way to get information out of him. And seeing as how he could remember being alone before he found himself in the hospital room, it would do no good to rely on someone else to help him break it. Until he could get enough chakra circulating to free himself, he had to be on his toes at all times, no matter what it was he heard or saw.

Quietly and warily, he instead answered aloud, "No, I didn't."

"Then tell me who you recognize me as," the older blond coaxed, "so we have somewhere to start."

"You're the Hokage."

A pleased nod. "So you know where you are?"

"Konoha."

"Your name?"

There, he hesitated. Because of Kyuubi he had many enemies – even many people he had never met before fell into that category – and he did not want to give away something that could be used against him. He finally took the risk and said, ". . . Naruto."

The man frowned faintly. "Why are you so uncomfortable?"

"I want to go home," Naruto replied. Wherever that was in relation to his location.

The older blond scratched his head, and Naruto tried to ignore how much it was like how _he_ scratched his head. "All right, well, I'll talk to the doctors. Maybe they'll let you go if I promise to have Akiko's nurse watch you as well. Is it okay if I ask now?"

"Sure."

While the man was gone, Naruto tried to figure out exactly what was going on. It certainly did not _feel_ like he was in a genjutsu and all his attempts to cancel any possible genjutsu turned up nothing. Calls to Kyuubi echoed hollowly, though he could tell that the fox was there.

It was surely nothing but a residual reflex – after all, seventeen years was nothing to an immortal kitsune – but Kyuubi actually breathed, even as nothing more than a chakra formation. It had distracted and frightened Naruto a lot during his childhood, when he had not known the cause of the sensation that tightened his chest so regularly, but he had eventually gotten used to it because he had known no one would care enough to help if he had bothered to speak up. What had taken him so long to come to terms with it was that though the fox could breathe, it seemed that he could not do so without Naruto's help. One of the massive fox's inhalations equaled about ten of Naruto's own, and each time Naruto inhaled the blond's chest would feel a little bit thicker and fuller, though never painfully so, until Kyuubi finally decided to exhale, which eased the pressure but increased the temperature of Naruto's breath by five degrees or so and briefly left a charcoal-flavored aftertaste, which was always at its worst when he first woke in the morning or after a nap and why he always rinsed his mouth out even if he only had water at hand. Anything was better than nothing.

He was willing to bet a great deal that no one had morning breath like his.

It was as though he was the bellows to Kyuubi's fire, and certainly the fox would not have been around for as long as it had been if not for Naruto's presence. Still, Naruto tried to avoid breathing on people, to not frighten them and to keep them from asking intrusive questions as well as to not freely remind them that they thought he was a thing to be scorned. He was just glad Iruka was used to it.

So he knew Kyuubi was with him, even if the stupid fox was not answering his questions, but that did not explain the condition he was in or his location. Or who he had seen. He considered he might have been dreaming, right before his so-called father reentered the room. "Sorry, kiddo. The doctors say no. You'll have to stay overnight for observation and evaluation. You just woke up, after all. Do you think you can handle that?"

"I'm not _scared_," Naruto asserted. Hell no, he was not scared. He was merely a little _freaked out_. "I want to go home, that's all. I woke up a minute ago and I feel like I've been here forever."

"Three weeks," the man corrected.

Naruto groaned and scrubbed his face with his hands. "I don't want to stay here. I feel fine."

"Try telling them that. By the way, what are these?"

He flinched slightly at the casual contact with his whisker marks – he could not recall any but himself ever being so flippant. Even Iruka hesitated to touch them, though he seemed to think that contacting them would harm Naruto rather than call out the kyuubi. Usually, though, people treated him like a walking plague, so having a total stranger poke at them was disorienting. As if he needed that in the current circumstances. "Uh . . ."

"You know," his 'father' said thoughtfully, "I call you Little Fox, but I never intended for you to take it so literally. Your mother is going to have a fit when she relaxes enough to notice that you have _tattoos_."

"They aren't tattoos!" he snapped defensively.

"Well they don't wash off. Yes, I've already tried it," the taller blond confirmed when Naruto blinked.

"Are you saying you don't care?" Naruto demanded quickly as he felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise in alarm. Only someone who wanted Kyuubi, he decided, would not care.

"Of _course_ I care," was the immediate response. "You've just made yourself the most eligible assassination target in the known world."

Naruto had never been told that before – probably so as to not scare him – but it really made perfect sense; not everyone showed such blatant signs of being possessed by a kitsune's spirit, so any that he displayed would label him instantly. It made more sense, then, why he had been instructed by various team leaders to find some way to get rid of them during undercover assignments. Fortunately Sakura was a gracious tutor even when it came to things like concealer, but he wished she had not laughed so hard during the 'lesson'. That would have made sitting still for her a lot easier. "I'll take care of it."

"Please do. In the meantime, to save the both of us from your mother's wrath I'll cover for you." Hand seals were formed and Naruto felt something settle on his shoulders. "Fortunately for us your mother isn't a ninja or this would never work. That illusion will wear off eventually, so 'take care of it' as soon as possible."

"I will," Naruto promised, because he definitely did not need to be sticking out _that_ far.

There was a long sigh and his 'father' suddenly sank onto the edge of the bed like an old man. "Asserting your individuality is one thing, Naruto, but you really scare me when you're so obvious about it."

For the first time in his life, Naruto apologized for carrying Kyuubi. He could not say why he did it, as he had never had the urge to at any point before, but it seemed like the right thing to do in that moment and he was at a loss as to what else he could offer as reassurance. The man simply did not know about him or Kyuubi, it seemed, and Naruto had never seen such an omission cause someone the kind of stress that was on display at that moment. It tended to be the other way around. ". . . I'm sorry."

"Just remember that around here," the older blond reminded him, "being blond and blue-eyed makes you stick out from the crowd anyway, okay?"

"Okay," Naruto acknowledged quietly.

A warm hand clapped down onto his head and ruffled his hair. "Thanks, kiddo."

It was only much later – typical for Naruto's brain when it was overtaxed – when his 'father' had gone 'to the office' and his mother had fallen asleep on the futon a few feet away, that he realized the _Yondaime Hokage_, the hero and savior of Konoha, knew absolutely nothing about the nine-tailed fox demon sealed within him. What was so alarming about that particular fact was that _everybody_ knew about it. There was no reason to omit something so obvious from a genjutsu, even purposely, which only made his situation that much stranger.

". . . Where the hell am I . . .?"

* * *

"Naruto-niichan!"

His father – it was hard to think that, but Naruto had decided that he had to play along with the whole thing until he figured it out – nudged him. "You're being called."

His reply was utter brilliance – "Huh?" – and he turned in the direction the other blond was looking only to be faced with something he had never seen fewer than ten feet away from him before. Startled by the new presence, he leaped back into his father's stable form. "What is that?!" He actually did know what it was, but saying that was the first thing that had come to mind.

The Fourth Hokage chuckled and leaned down so that their heads were at the same level. "Most people call them toddlers. What are they called where you're from?"

It was very irrational, Naruto knew, to be afraid of a toddler. Especially when faced with such a cute one all by herself, but he knew absolutely nothing about children because he had never had the opportunity to _be_ one. It had always been about the money he had never had, the weekly allowance they had 'forgotten' to pay him. Rent, food, clothes . . . There had never been enough. He had not had the time, so he had given up trying to play with other kids and just satisfied himself with watching from a distance those times when he could spare a few minutes. He was sure that he would hurt the girl accidentally in his inexperience, or that Kyuubi would deliberately hurt her, and preferred the idea of not having to interact with her at all. It was surely much better for all of them if he kept his distance; that way she would not be injured.

"Naruto?" his father asked in unveiled concern, gazing at him with unveiled concern. "What's wrong? Why are you so scared?"

Comforting arms slid around him again and Naruto realized how ridiculous he was being. He would just have to make sure he did _not_ hurt her, and Kyuubi could not hurt her unless he _let_ the fox. She would be perfectly fine, whether or not he was in her company. He shook his head and forced himself to relax. He would have to make his excuse good. "I just . . . don't remember . . ."

_Oh, __**swell**__,_ Sarcasm hissed, and Naruto fought to not roll his eyes. _No wonder you're such a __**superb**__ shinobi!_

Sarcasm was more or less a carryover from the village's rejection; his flat-out refusal to accept the biased criticism had caused it to dig its craggy, splintered talons into the same corner of his mind where a person's normal inhibiting thought processes lay and gleefully put down roots. As a result, any time he said or did something stupid his new hyper-aware inner critic would automatically click on and let fly with some pointless invective. The single good thing was that the irritating, harping bile was generally drowned out by Kyuubi, who was more than scathing enough for Naruto's daily needs, but whenever Kyuubi did not bother to speak up Sarcasm was right there waiting to take the reins. It was not quite the same level of vicious bitterness as Kyuubi, though, so Naruto had less trouble with it than the fox. And seeing as it was not a separate entity like Kyuubi he could usually simply tune out that part of himself, while the kitsune's imposing presence was a bit harder to dismiss.

_Shut up,_ Naruto said firmly, _or I will have you exorcised._

Sarcasm flipped him the bird, and Naruto briefly wondered what it meant about a person when he did that to himself, especially in his own head. _Good luck, Silvertongue. You'd have to have your lone brain cell surgically removed to manage anything like that._

". . . should have stayed in the hospital . . ." the Fourth was saying.

Naruto did not hear him, because with Sarcasm silenced he was busy staring at the tiny girl in front of him. She staggered over and held her arms up expectantly; he found his body moving instinctively, bending down and fitting his hands beneath her short, pudgy limbs to pick her up. He concluded as he lifted her that he did not have the leverage for the maneuver and should have crouched to use his knees, not his back. To correct the miscalculation, he shifted to extend his right hip – what there was of it – to form a temporary shelf to readjust his grip. For the first time he was able to appreciate women's hips and wished he had a pair for instances like that. Sighing, he hefted the young girl again and quickly fit one arm and then the other beneath her diaper-clad bottom.

She must have been potty-training still.

She squealed almost directly into his hypersensitive ear – foxes had fantastic hearing, as it turned out – and wrapped her arms tightly around his neck. "Hi, Naruto-niichan!" she squeaked in greeting, and kissed his cheek with the sloppy, unbiased love only a child of fewer than six years was capable of.

"Hi," he responded, returning the kiss hesitantly in the form of a quick peck.

"I missed you."

Gazing into those bright hazel eyes, Naruto came to the rather abrupt understanding that he loved the little girl dearly. It was no choice he had made consciously, but rather a deep-down acknowledgement of something that he could not explain – a vivid, inexplicable affection for a person he knew nothing about, as though it originated with someone else and he was merely a conduit. "I'm sorry. I know I was away a long time."

". . . More stubborn than his mother . . ." the Fourth was still muttering to no one, and Naruto momentarily wondered if the elder blond had been expecting someone to pay attention. ". . . Shouldn't have listened . . . an _adult_, for heaven's sake . . . _shinobi_, too . . . more _experience_ with injuries . . . such a _moron_ . . ."

"Back now?" the toddler wondered, obviously not any more interested than he was.

"Yes," Naruto answered.

She cocked her head, considering, then said slowly, "For . . . ever?"

Not only potty-training, then, but learning big words.

It was easy to talk to children, he realized as she blinked up at him. So easy to promise their innocent eyes the moon just to see them smile and make them happy for a little while. No one had ever done it for him in his life, but he still wanted to do it for those sparkling eyes. Even so . . . "For a while."

He could not betray those eyes with an impossible promise.

_Such soft thoughts,_ a familiar voice sneered in his mind.

He had never been so relieved to hear that grating, condescending voice. _Kyuubi!_ If anyone could figure their situation out, it was the caged demon.

_Ugh! Shut up before my head explodes, you little rat!_

_You sound bad,_ Naruto noted, trying to keep his amusement from being as obvious to the fox as it was to him. He and Kyuubi had a stable hate-loathe relationship where they could not stand each other but worked together to find ways to get along for the sake of their sanity – or at least whatever was left of it. _Need chakra?_

_It would be . . . helpful,_ Kyuubi admitted grudgingly.

In most cases, Naruto made use of the fox's chakra. He could, however, provide a small amount of his own chakra to the fox for assimilation and replenishment. It was like jumpstarting a motor and thus faster than waiting for the demonic chakra to refresh on its own, rare as those times were. That particular connection between them was one thing the fox did not bother to tamper with, as he felt it to be beneath him to take chakra from a mortal in a non-emergency scenario. So Naruto never had to worry about Kyuubi stealing chakra, though he did have precautions in place in the event that he was duped. He moved them aside, though, to go on an internal search.

_Er . . ._

Kyuubi seemed equally nonplussed. _. . . Perhaps you should have that looked at._

_Is this it?!_ Naruto screeched in shock, peering into the dilapidated and nearly empty well that symbolized his stamina. _Where the hell did it all go?!_ He fished out anything he could spare and passed it through the seal to the fox while at the same time trying to stave off the sudden exhaustion that came from the lack of sufficient chakra. He was totally unaware that he had drawn attention to himself.

The Fourth Hokage, having peripherally overseen the reunion between his two children, finally brushed his mind clear of the complaints that nobody had been listening to anyway and turned to his daughter's nurse. "Hitomi, could you watch over Naruto for a while?"

"Certainly," Hitomi agreed without hesitation. "Is something wrong?"

"He's . . ." The Fourth sighed heavily. "He's . . . having memory problems. Severe ones, probably trauma-induced. You saw how he was with Akiko. He didn't recognize Hotaru or myself as his parents, though he knew that I was Hokage." Hitomi gasped in concerned dismay. "He knows this is Konoha, but that seems to be the limit of his knowledge. If he asks questions he should already know the answers to, please just humor him."

"I understand completely, Hokage-sama," Hitomi assured him, her dark brown eyes worried, "but if he's in such a condition shouldn't he stay in the hospital?"

He shook his head unhappily. "He doesn't want to be there. He asked yesterday if he could come home, but the doctors wanted him to stay overnight. Hotaru was with him and said he was up all night staring at the door to his room. I don't want him to get stressed and break down and if being here in a familiar place with familiar routines can calm him, his memories might return faster. So—"

Hitomi waited, then leaned in slightly and asked, "Hokage-sama?"

He ignored her. Someone close by was playing with chakra. Demonic chakra, it seemed. The tiny flares he was reading reminded him of Kyuubi, but they were still noticeably different.

"Naruto-niichan? _Niichan_?!"

He looked down, startled, and saw Hitomi whisk Akiko from Naruto's suddenly limp arms. He reached out reflexively as his heart stuttered wildly with sickeningly vulnerable alarm and cradled his son carefully in one arm as the smaller blond slumped toward the earth. "Naruto? _Naruto_?"

Ready to rush back to the hospital, afraid it was some kind of relapse, he was stopped when worn-out blue eyes eased open. "'M okay. A li'l tired, tha's all."

Too much excitement, between arriving home and meeting Akiko all over again. That made sense, and a quick sweep found that Naruto's body was operating normally, though his chakra reserves were a bit low. Nothing to panic over yet. The Fourth sighed shakily and lifted the almost lifelessly-relaxed body. "You want me grey-haired before I'm forty, don't you?"

"S . . . Sorry . . ."

He carried his firstborn to the boy's own room and placed him carefully on the bed. "Get some sleep."

"I wanna stay with Naruto-niichan!" Akiko shrieked from Hitomi's arms.

The Fourth turned and tapped his daughter warningly on her delicate nose. "Shh. Your brother is trying to sleep." She squirmed uncomfortably beneath his intense gaze, her hazel eyes alternately glancing up and him and then darting to the floor, intimidated. When she was sufficiently discomfited and silent, he continued. "Your brother was in a big accident and he's very sleepy. He won't be able to play with you or pay you any attention. If you want to stay with him that's fine, but you have to be quiet and still so he can rest. Is that clear?"

"Yes, Daddy," came the soft, obedient murmur.

He turned to Hitomi, who began to carefully set Akiko next to Naruto so the toddler would not have reason to wriggle and disturb her brother. "I'm sorry, Hitomi . . ."

She smiled. "No need to apologize, Hokage-sama. She hasn't had her nap today, so this might actually do her some good. I'll take whatever I can get."

He grimaced. "If, for some reason, you ever wonder what my mother went through trying to raise me . . ."

Hitomi laughed and let go of Akiko as the girl snuggled against Naruto's ribs and closed her eyes. "Your children must love you a great deal to emulate you so closely."

* * *

To be continued in . . . **Chapter 3**** – Pearl Diving**

"Good," Hotaru said with a nod. "You know, I never thought I'd say this because I actually _like_ this trait in men, who don't seem to have it as active in them as women, but maybe you need to be a bit _less_ empathetic. You're going to give yourself a heart attack."

She turned away, so she missed his grimace of agreement.

* * *

**Answers To Questions You Didn't Even Know You Wanted To Ask:**

In regards to the note at the start of the chapter, I respond here to several comments regarding _Door Number Two_ and _Vis-à-Vis_ that – if I'm understanding correctly, because I'm not sure I am – assumes that a) there has been a shift of focus from canon!Naruto to the other canon characters trying to figure out why Naruto is behaving so strangely, b) there are suddenly two Narutos in canonverse and everyone has to figure out why and return the lost Naruto to his proper time and place, c) canon!Naruto's supposed injury/death has caused him to have some form of amnesia that makes him think he's a pre-teen with a family, or d) _Vis-à-Vis_ is a sister story to _Door Number Two_ and will be focusing on parallel!Naruto in canonverse.

To be clear, _Vis-à-Vis_ is not about any of these, and perhaps claiming that _Vis-à-Vis_ was a rewrite was the wrong thing to say, as a rewrite often implies major changes. _Vis-à-Vis_ is more like a **remix** of _Door Number Two_, where I am literally taking _Door Number Two_ as it stands and attaching it to a four-hundred-watt amplifier. _Vis-à-Vis_ will be little more than a meatier version of _Door Number Two_; it will contain more character development – mainly for Nyoko/Akiko, Hotaru, Arashi, and Shinju, but there will be others – and it will also have more information on the clerics as well as the introduction of the parallel versions of characters everyone wanted to see but weren't able to, such as Lee and Shikamaru and others. This is why I noted last chapter that there was no need to read _Door Number Two_ to understand _Vis-à-Vis_ – they are exactly the same story, but one of them has simply taken steroids and will, ideally, be easier to follow. I hope that better explains the purpose of _Vis-à-Vis_ and its relation to _Door Number Two_.

———

**This is for **_**Alex**_ **and **_**Isthia**_**, but as the questions pertain I am answering for everyone:**

First, Alex left an e-mail address – which I deeply appreciate – in the review itself rather than the e-mail bar of the review box, so the site erased it for your protection and their own. But since the effort was made and the questions are relevant, I'll answer them here.

_**Namikaze**_** theoretically has two meanings**, though they are very similar and I may just be overcomplicating things by thinking too much. Separately, _nami_ is "wave" and _kaze_ is "wind". In a literal sense, then, the Fourth's surname translates to "Wavewind"; in a slightly broader sense, it could be "Wave and Wind"; also, it could be "discord" in the sense of nature's tempestuousness. As either one entity or two, this could potentially indicate a particular skill that is as yet unknown, it could be something to do with the Rasengan, or it could simply help tie in his whole name with Naruto's/Kushina's.

**As far as reconciling Sasuke's current (between chapters 400-410) behavior**, I personally think he should just _Chidori Current_ himself and get it over with, the vile little angst-bag, since his suffering is apparently that great. What a way to disrespect everything that was ever done for him by everyone around him . . . Well, anyway, as of right now I don't know if his actions are even going to come up in any detail in _Vis-à-Vis_, though I can think of a way they might fit in. And there are readers who are not so far in their reading of the manga and wouldn't appreciate it all being spoiled. I guess that, ultimately, it all depends on how much of his true intentions come out between now and when I reach the point where discussing it would be appropriate. Since it may be a while before the next canonverse-centric chapter is posted, that could help include or exclude recent events.

———

**Though he supposed he **_**could**_** have been part of someone's forbidden jutsu project, like what Orochimaru did in his spare time.**

This is an **extremely** oblique reference to another fic of mine that was in my busted laptop waiting for rescue but is now safely in my clutches. It is **such** an oblique reference, in fact, that I didn't make the equation myself until I read it for the _n_th time. And my mother is so proud that I 'notice things' . . .

———

**… he should have crouched to use his knees, not his back.**

My mother's always like, "Lift with your knees!" She's backed up by professional research, of course, so here's today's health advisory: Never lift with your back unless you want to throw it out and have surgery done. This goes for women and men both.

———

******… **he felt it to be beneath him to take chakra from a mortal in a non-emergency scenario.

It is important to keep in mind that, if the _Naruto_ bijuu do indeed follow the bijuu legend closely enough, the kyuubi is the absolute in power and chakra – it is physically the strongest bijuu and the realism of its chakra creations was astonishing. Even so, the difference is not so great that there can be no defeating it. It is said that in a great battle, the hachibi ('eight-tail') Orochi (who also happened to have eight heads) was extremely powerful and had chakra creations whose realism were on par with the kyuubi's. In fact, the hachibi was even able to hold out against the kyuubi for a very long time compared to the other seven bijuu. As it turned out, the only thing that gave the kyuubi the victory was that the hachibi ran out of chakra, and could thus be defeated, whereas the kyuubi's chakra was infinite.

In _DNT_, it was pointed out to me by a reviewer that Kyuubi could never be defeated by anyone or anything for this reason. However, 'infinite' only means that its chakra is **immeasurable by human standards**. It does not and never has meant anything that could be translated as 'a steady flow'. More on this later.

——————————

It's time to play a quick game of _Draw Your Own Conclusion_! Naruto is very nervous right now and is willing to blame anyone for his trouble. If you review, you will obviously be too busy to be the guilty party. Draw your own conclusion.

~RN (LS)


	3. Pearl Diving

**Author's Notes:** I, as the automobile air-freshener claimed, am a "Bee-otch" (cheers to those of you who know where that's from). So, two **long** months later, here is chapter three (I swear, all I could think about was this thing). The Cliff's notes version is that the entire first page and a half of this chapter was what caused that **frelling** (bigger cheers to those of you who know where **that's** from) delay; it took **forever** to figure out how to tie it in with the rest of the fic. But I have, **finally**, and it's only the last seventy percent of the chapter that allowed me to get it posted so suddenly, as it's simply a big chunk of the original chapter two from _DNT_ with a little tweaking. Sorry it took until your grandkids were born to get it here.

**Word Count:** 6116 (**Total:** 15468)

**Date Submitted:** 10/14/08

* * *

**Chapter 3**** – Pearl Diving**

* * *

With one hand centered pointlessly on his heaving chest, his body locked and face shining with a sheen of sweat as he gasped haltingly, Namikaze Arashi was the quintessential example of a heart attack victim.

Except that he knew he was not _having_ a heart attack. Heart attacks _hurt_ after a while.

Ever since he could remember, Arashi had occasionally suffered a strange, painless tightening of his chest. It occurred almost exclusively during the instances in which he was frightened and seemed to intensify into an all-encompassing terror when someone he cared about was in some kind of trouble. It had happened frequently enough during his childhood that he had learned to divert the worst of the sensation while he was out on an assignment as a genin, and then later as a jounin instructor. He had gone to multiple doctors in years past to find an answer, but none of them had been able to find anything wrong with him; he had even suggested that it might be a heart attack, but all of them had assured him that his heart and arteries were in fine condition and he had nothing to worry about as long as he kept doing what he was doing.

Yet it was getting worse, whatever it was.

". . . Arashi?"

He had dealt with it sporadically throughout his life. Perhaps it was something congenital and one morning he would just wake up and immediately die, the way the elderly sometimes did. He could imagine that Hotaru would _love_ discovering _that_ in bed with her.

"_Arashi_?"

He blinked and looked over. Hotaru stood to his right, one hand on his shoulder – however he had managed to not notice her – and the other on his arm. Her golden-brown eyes were filled with concern and her face, if it was possible, was even paler than usual.

_Busted,_ Anxiety – that part of him that made no effort to help reassure him when he was doing something right but freely ramped his blood pressure up during a crisis – whimpered weakly.

_I'm a big boy and I don't have to tell her one damn thing,_ Arashi snapped. _It hasn't killed me yet anyway. Besides, why should I bother to worry her with thinking that I might die of something __**other**__ than an assassination? That's more than enough for her, and measures are in place no matter what manages to kill me. She doesn't need to know about it; nobody does._

Aloud, he asked, "Are you all right? You're kinda . . . white."

She fished a handkerchief from somewhere in her sapphire-blue, wisteria-print kimono and gently wiped the sweat from his face. "Are _you_ all right? You look like you're going through withdrawal."

"I'm fine," he assured her. "Naruto just gave me a little scare. He's fine too, though."

_It's not a lie,_ he quickly reminded Anxiety, which calmed down considerably at that truth. _I __**am**__ fine now – I just wasn't a minute and a half ago._

"Good," Hotaru said with a nod. "You know, I never thought I'd say this because I actually _like_ this trait in men, who don't seem to have it as active in them as women, but maybe you need to be a bit _less_ empathetic. You're going to give yourself a heart attack."

She turned away briefly then, so she missed his grimace of agreement.

"You're sure Naruto's fine?"

"Yes," he promised. "He was a little weak, but he spoke to me coherently and clearly. Akiko wanted to stay with him, so Hitomi's watching over both of them right now. And speaking of that, I've asked Hitomi to keep an eye on him for us since she has some medical knowledge, so she might ask you if he did anything strange."

Hotaru nodded.

"He could be a spy, Arashi."

Arashi and Hotaru, who jumped and let out a startled gasp at being caught unawares, turned to the newest arrival. Hotaru frowned slightly and asked incredulously, "_Naruto_, Sandaime-sama?"

The old man dipped his head at her in greeting – "Hotaru-san." – but did not answer. He returned his gaze to his successor. "Arashi."

Hotaru looked around at the blond, but his gaze had fallen to the floor and he was most definitely trying to avoid hers. Her mouth opened a bit in shock. ". . . You must be joking. Arashi, he's only twelve years old!"

Arashi turned his head away to escape the questioning eyes of his companions. He knew that. He did. And it _was_ suspicious, but he did not know if it was suspicious _enough_. Naruto seemed to be perfectly normal, other than his memory, and the condition he was in when he was found was not exactly conducive to accusing him of any kind of espionage. Arashi simply wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt.

"Arashi," Hotaru went on desperately, taking his silence to be agreement with his predecessor's statement. "Arashi, _think_ about this, _please_. Naruto isn't like Akiko – he's the last of an otherwise dead family line! You can't actually be considering . . . _doing_ something to him!"

He smiled faintly at her. She was so peaceful a person it was hard for her to even say 'kill'. "I love you," he said spontaneously, and she blinked at the incongruity of the statement. After a brief moment, he explained quietly, "Hotaru, please try to understand . . . Naruto may already be dead."

Hotaru's brows drew together. "What do you mean?"

He sighed softly and closed his eyes. That was the one thing he regretted about her not being a kunoichi – rather than having the blessing of speaking in nuance and euphemism and knowing she would be able to understand, he had to lay out on the table all of the painful realities of being a shinobi so that she could see them and hate them. "If someone wanted to take Naruto as a hostage," he clarified, "that person wouldn't have left a copy in his place. It would be better for us to notice his absence right away so that demands could be made. But if someone was trying to spy on us, a copy would be very useful. However, there wouldn't be any interest in Naruto himself and it would be inconvenient if he reappeared while the copy was already here." He looked at her again, and Hotaru's eyes widened in understanding, but he went on to be sure that she absolutely _did_ understand. "To protect the copy for as long as possible, it would be less trouble to kill him right away."

"But you don't know that!" she protested. "You can't just _kill_ a child without _evidence_!"

Arashi frowned at her and said more sharply than he had intended, "I can do anything I have to for the sake of the village."

_That could be one of the biggest lies I've ever told,_ Anxiety pointed out. _She'll catch on!_

"You could _not_!" Hotaru snapped. "He's your own son!"

"I didn't say that I'd do it myself, now did I?" he snarled back. "All I have to do is give the order and any shinobi in the village would do it instead."

Hotaru stared at him, mouth open in shock, but then her face twisted and she brought her right hand up in an unusually strong slap. "Just because he looks so much like you," she shouted, full-volume, as he rubbed gingerly at the vivid red handprint on his left cheek, "doesn't mean he can't be my child, too!"

Arashi watched her storm off. _Why do I always pick the bitchy ones?_

_I'm either a masochist at heart,_ Anxiety mused, _or trying to justify a dormant misogynistic tendency._

"Be careful," Sandaime cautioned, and Arashi was thankful that he was not outright suggesting immediate action. "Do not allow your judgement to be clouded by personal feelings, in the event of either conclusion."

He left as well then, and Arashi watched him go before resting his back against the paneled wall and sliding to the floor. He tilted his head back and stared blankly at the spackled ceiling as the inexplicable chest pain renewed itself, but did not have the energy to even attempt to massage it away.

_. . . What am I going to do? Help me, Red . . ._

* * *

Naruto awakened slowly, groggy and confused, and panicked momentarily when he found his surroundings utterly alien. He was in a generous room with an equally generous bed, a chest of drawers, a small vanity – whatever that was for – a closet, a few simple shelves and baskets containing books and various examples of the seemingly insignificant paraphernalia typically wielded by ninja, and a big window that showed only the empty and wide-open space between the house and the trees that made it harder for invading shinobi to hide during an advance. Nothing was familiar and he was alone.

A harsh mental slap shook him from a creeping panic. _You humans are frightened so easily . . . __**Smell**__, brat! Don't waste my senses!_

Obediently, Naruto lifted his head and took a few tentative sniffs of the air. ". . . Food!"

_Fetch, boy!_

"You think you're such hot shit, don't you?"

'_Cogito ergo sum.'_

Despite the strange language, Naruto rolled his eyes. Kyuubi was a dickhead of supreme proportions, but he had been around long enough to be considered formally educated. Naruto had learned most of the dead languages the fox knew – and was familiar with bits and pieces of the rest – mainly to protect himself, since the kitsune tended to mutter his intentions in one of the tongues before actually carrying them out.

Sometimes – _just_ sometimes – Naruto wondered if Kyuubi was subtly attempting to look after him.

Not that asking would get him anywhere. "Like I didn't see that one coming . . ."

_Coming?_ came the amused question. _Why yes, I'd lo—_

Naruto grimaced. What a completely _expected_ response. Kyuubi was not really an incorrigible pervert, but as a non-human he was not exactly concerned with the social niceties of humanity either, so he often answered with the first thing that reached his mind when it was unintentionally prompted. And seeing as he was a powerful, uncut male kitsune, sex was generally not far from his thoughts. "Shut up."

The fox's consciousness receded with a snicker.

With his morning argument out of the way, Naruto stretched a bit and poked around. Several articles lying about bore his name, so he assumed he was in his own room and meandered out the door, mentally mapping the hall outside so he could find it again. Since he had a choice, he started off to the right. After a few minutes of navigation, he discovered that he was right back where he had started. He tried again and experimented with a few previously passed-over halls, and found himself at the door of the kitchen.

He had to admit, _privately_, that Kyuubi was correct – the nose would know.

"Oh, Naruto-sama! I'm glad you're well!" the portly woman working inside the sweltering room called to him cheerfully. "The Hokage was quite worried about you – wouldn't eat a bite for three days. It might have been longer if the doctors hadn't threatened to feed him intravenously."

Naruto-_sama_, she had said. That was a designation he had not expected to hear by that point in his life. "He wouldn't eat?"

She clucked like a mother hen as she stirred something bubbling quietly on the range. "No. Don't tell him I told you, but he always stops eating whenever you or Akiko-chan are seriously hurt. Poor man has a tender stomach from all the fretting he does."

Naruto was surprised to hear that it was possible for a Hokage to have a sensitive stomach, although they were certainly no less human than anyone else. ". . . I had no idea . . ."

"Of course you didn't, dear," she confirmed. "He doesn't like it when people worry about him. Now go on to the lounge – I'll be done in a few minutes."

". . . Okay."

Except that he had no idea where that was. Fortunately, both the lounge and dining room were just a short distance up the hall. He stepped into the lounge before he realized that someone he did not know was already there; his senses were far too dull. He needed to train as soon as he could possibly manage.

The man was somewhat familiar, but not enough to ease his suspicions. "Heya, kiddo. Nice to see you're okay. Place wasn't the same without you."

He stared. "Wh-What are you doing to Akiko-chan?!"

The man looked at his lap, where Akiko was lying on her back and giggling whenever he lifted her by the ankles. "Playing."

"You're hurting her!"

The not-stranger looked again at the girl, who had switched to actively chewing on the tender underside of his wrist and hissing like a beast. Blandly, he replied, "I doubt it."

Naruto growled and reached down for his shuriken holster, only to remember belatedly that there was not one there. Everything was still in the room he had awakened in.

The man noticed. "You know you aren't supposed to throw weapons in the house."

Naruto snarled softly. He did not want to leave Akiko alone, but with such low chakra he needed a weapon and there were none in the room. There had been a pike mounted on the wall a few rooms down, though that was assuming he was even in the right area. He took a step back and jumped when he felt himself collide with someone behind him. He whirled, startled that he had not heard the person approach, but was quickly overcome with relief. Back-up had arrived. "Dad! Dad, this guy . . ."

The Fourth sighed and put an arm around Naruto's shoulders. "It's all right, Naruto. He's a friend."

"He is?"

"What's wrong?" the visitor asked, turning Akiko on her head so that she laughed again.

"If you make my daughter sick," the Fourth said mildly, "you get to clean it up."

"Oh, but she _likes_ it," the not-stranger crooned. "Don't you, gorgeous?"

Akiko laughed raucously.

Naruto reached out and carefully snatched her away, then stepped slightly behind his father to protect her, making no effort to hide his distrust.

The Fourth sighed once more. "Naruto, really. It's okay. Please trust me."

The visitor frowned. "What's wrong, again?"

"Naruto's been having some memory problems since his accident. Everything's strange and new to him, so please be patient."

Naruto growled again. If he had not thought it would give him away, he would have _told_ them why he was acting the way he was. Mistrust, after all, was learned rather than inherent. Any stranger poking around in his home or the homes of those he cared about were considered potential threats – guilty until proven innocent with not even fake apologies to any offended parties. He would never apologize for caring.

"In that case, I'll reintroduce myself." The man pulled off his headband, which had been in a sort of over-the-head bandanna style. Naruto understood the reason why – to hide in the darkness more easily – when he saw the man's platinum hair. "I'm—"

He gawked. "Kakashi-sensei?!"

"'Sensei'?" the Fourth echoed, surprised.

Kakashi rubbed the back of his head. "Does this mean I get a raise?"

"'_Sensei_'?" the blond insisted loudly.

"I _have_ taught him a few things, but I never told him to . . ." Kakashi paused then and asked a very relevant question. "Am I going to get in trouble for any of this?"

"Exactly _what_ did you teach him, Kakashi-_sensei_?"

Kakashi grimaced and desperately sought an escape. ". . . I have to pee."

"_Kakashi_."

As entertaining as it was to see his teacher squirm so, Naruto felt responsible for bringing it up, accident or not. "Does it matter? I don't remember any of it."

The Fourth looked at him sharply. "Don't try to—"

"Hokage-sama!"

His father's frown deepened and he collected Akiko. Giving them a venomous warning glare, which was shockingly intimidating despite the thumb-sucking toddler he was holding, he said, "You _both_ better hope it wasn't anything dangerous or it will become _extremely_ hazardous to your health."

Kakashi let out a tiny, nearly inaudible sigh as the Fourth moved up along the hall to find the one who had called him. "Thanks, kiddo."

"Is he always like that?" Kakashi blinked questioningly, so Naruto clarified with, "Suffering mood swings. Is this something I need to watch out for?"

The jounin shrugged. "No. Your dad's usually a super-nice guy. It's just that when he gets stressed he turns into a crabcake."

"What's to be stressed about?" Naruto wondered. "I know running the village is hard, but it—" Interrupted by his not-teacher's sudden prodding of his stomach, he glared and snapped, "Stop poking me!"

"_You_ are what has him stressed. He's always been strongly attached to you and your sister, no doubt more than a good shinobi should. Your joys are his joys, your sorrows his sorrows, your pain his pain." Kakashi shrugged again. "It's one of those father-type things, I suppose. He's been worried about you since your accident and seems to be taking it out on everyone but you and Akiko."

"What _did_ happen to me?"

A third shrug. "You're the only one who knows. That day you went off to train. When you didn't show for supper your dad went looking for you. When he returned with you, you were covered in blood and bruises and had torn clothes. It all looked self-inflicted, but a couple of the bruises were in hard-to-reach places and too dark for that to be plausible. We know that you were attacked, but not by who or what. Considering the lack of evidence, a ninja seems the only logical answer in this case."

Naruto let out a long breath and scratched his head. It seemed like it was time to investigate; perhaps his fresh eyes would find something everyone else had missed. "I guess I'll—"

"Are you two going to stand there all night and chat?" Hotaru called from the dining room. "Your supper's getting cold!"

Naruto spent the entirety of the meal gaping discreetly at Kakashi, since in his concern for his sister he had not done so earlier. His teacher not only did not wear a mask, but was smiling and laughing like a normal person. The man teased and cooed at Akiko, who was positively delighted with the attention. That was not what had thrown Naruto off the most, though; what had done that had been his teacher's eyes. The Kakashi before him still possessed both blue-grey eyes and did not bear a scar over the left. It might have been the indication of an enemy jutsu that he was looking for, but Naruto was not sure. He had never met a ninja who had not at least _heard_ of Sharingan Kakashi and seriously doubted that such a ninja actually existed.

Still, it left him at less than nothing on the official Knowing What the Hell Is Going On-o-meter.

_Kyuubi?_

_Shut up,_ was the fox's immediate, distracted response. _I'm thinking._

He excused himself immediately after he finished eating – he even managed to remember to ask permission to leave the table – and was not entirely lying when he claimed that he was fatigued. He wandered into his bedroom after getting lost twice and collapsed face-down on his bed with an exhausted groan. He lay that way for hours, just achy enough to be unable to sleep but much too tired to grab for a painkiller, assuming that he could stumble across a bottle somewhere. He figured that if he lay still long enough the pain would dull sufficiently so that he could sleep, and the idea satisfied him. If he _had_ supposedly followed a more regular schedule it would no doubt be put off for at least a few days. He could bear to miss a few hours of sleep for the time being.

The door to his room opened after a time, but he did not bother to move at first. Someone sat on his bed and ran a hand soothingly down his back, which somehow caused him to let out a massive, reflexive sigh. He realized he was going to have a hard time when he got home; he was getting too used to being treated so kindly and warmly. He lifted his head sleepily and though he could not turn enough to identify his visitor, he registered that the hand on his back was far too broad to be his mother's and had calluses in all the right places for someone who used shuriken and kunai on a regular basis.

It was not the slightest bit unusual for _any_ shinobi to be up and lurking, no matter the hour, but he could not help wondering. "Dad . . .? Why are you still up?"

"I'm sorry," the Fourth said softly. "Did I wake you?"

"No, but I was on my way out. Isn't it late?"

"I was having a little trouble getting to sleep," was the unashamed revelation, "so I took a walk around the house. I thought I'd make sure you were sleeping all right your first night back. Everything okay?"

Naruto nodded sleepily. "Just in a little pain. Probably from running around so much after being still for so long and then picking up Akiko. Do we have any painkillers?"

His father chuckled. "That's like asking if we wear clothes. Want me to get you something?"

"Actually, could you show me?" Naruto inquired in answer. "I need to learn my way around in case things take a while to come back to me." Or, in his case, never come back at all.

Naruto did not miss the hesitant silence that initially answered. But a moment later the Fourth helped him out of bed and led him through the darkened house to a walk-in pantry directly adjacent to the kitchen. He retrieved the medicine from a locked cabinet that had been positioned a bit high on the wall, and when he placed the key atop it Naruto commented with drowsy petulance, "That's not fair."

"It's to discourage Akiko," was the explanation as they left the pantry to get some water. "Several children in the village who were her age died after overdosing on different substances. It was a coincidence that they were so similar and so close together – they were looked into just in case – but your mother got scared. I tried to tell her that careful monitoring and discipline would keep Akiko safe in the same way you were, but she was adamant. So if you need anything from the cabinet you'll have to use the stool behind the flour. But _don't_ let your sister see you doing it because she's an extremely quick study and she'd figure out how to make the stool taller, which could end up worse than if she poisons herself. And speaking of poisons, be careful what you grab in there because I keep my poisons there as well, on the highest two shelves. If you knock something down and it spills, _don't_ mess with it. Just lock the cabinet, tell Aya so she doesn't get a nasty surprise, and come find me. I'll take care of it, all right?"

He shrugged and accepted the glass of water. "Okay, but I could probably clean it up by myself and save you the hassle."

"I'm sure you could, but I'd much rather you not. I promise I won't get angry – in fact, I'd be delighted – if you reported it to me. If you gave me details I could decide whether or not to let you clean it. Poisons are very easy for ninja to get a hold of, especially considering who I am. They aren't impossible to replace, unlike . . . Well, it's absurdly simple to replace a poison here, like I said, so don't think that you'll have to placate me to avoid a lecture or something. I know accidents happen and it's not a big deal."

"If you say so."

He finished the water off and went to his bedroom with an escort, which was good because he nearly took a wrong turn and got himself lost for the fourth time that day. He climbed into bed and was tucked in, a relatively new experience performed occasionally by Iruka but that could still be counted on one hand.

"Feeling any better?" his father inquired.

"A little," Naruto answered. "The medicine hasn't kicked in yet."

"Don't worry about knowing – it knocks you right out."

"Ooh, that sounds nice."

The Fourth chuckled. "Sounds like you're losing the battle already."

"Nuh-uh," Naruto argued, hard-wired to protest any statement that might hint at him losing anything.

His father snorted softly and ordered gently, "Close your eyes."

He complied and the next thing he knew, slightly familiar voices were speaking rather quietly around him, presumably to not wake him. He shifted a little and realized that he was lying on something firm yet soft that rose and fell and hissed hollowly in a slightly out-of-step cadence with a lightly rhythmic, dully-echoing thump. It took his half-asleep mind a moment to figure out he was hearing the heartbeat and respiration of someone very close to him – right beneath his ear, in fact.

"Have you been here all night?" his mother demanded in a whisper.

"I wanted to make sure he was comfortable," his father said with equal care.

"Arashi, you could have had one of the girls do it. You need to sleep."

"I did and I'm fine. I just wanted to be sure he slept all right. I won't do it again."

Naruto knew a guilt trip when he heard one; Iruka was both a travel agent and a frequent-flier when it came to the things. He also knew the reason for it – Kakashi had implied it the evening before. He yawned and shifted again into a bit more of a comfortable position, sure that the blunted thing poking up beneath his ribs had been the rounded loop of a kunai.

". . . A little restless, isn't he?"

"He's been like that since he fell asleep."

"That's because he's too big to sleep that way."

An arm went around his lower back and a hand stroked his hair absently. "He's still smaller than me. And besides, he was _more_ restless when he was on the mattress. I don't have any idea what he was dreaming about, but he was quite upset about it until I moved him."

His mother snorted delicately. "I don't know how you could have slept like that."

"Very easily, love."

". . . Well, next time _tell_ me when you decide that you're going to spend the night in one of your children's rooms. I woke up and thought something had happened to you."

"Like what?" the Fourth questioned, genuinely curious. "There weren't any signs of a struggle."

"Arashi, that's _not_ the point. You know I'm a creature of habit; I don't like my routines disturbed."

"Yes, yes, all right. I'm sorry. I'll leave you a note if it happens again." The arm around his back tightened and the one that had been petting him moved to support his head. His bed sat up and let out a small grunt. "Ugh, he _is_ big. I remember when just two hands were more than enough. Now I think I need four." He was rolled onto his back and placed very carefully in his non-living bed. Almost mournfully, the Fourth mused, ". . . Sometimes I wish they'd be babies forever."

"Oh please no," his mother groaned, and his father laughed warmly. "I happen to _like_ them possessing that little trait of eventually growing up. If your wish ever comes true, then _you_ will always be the one on diaper and laundry duty because I will _not_ do it again. I've already done it for you before and while I love you and them dearly, that isolated time was more than enough."

He felt the covers settle beneath his chin and felt lips press a soft, tender kiss to his forehead. He sighed and drifted slowly back to sleep, and the next time he awakened it was because one of the many housekeepers had given him a quick shake. It was not a good way to wake a shinobi, but he was a notoriously heavy sleeper and not the most articulate when newly awakened, so there was little danger as far as he was concerned.

"I'm terribly sorry to wake you, Naruto-sama," was the cautious greeting, "but you have a visitor waiting in the lounge. One Miss Hyuuga, I believe."

"Hinata-chan?" he murmured sleepily, before fully considering how that would sound to everyone else.

Sure enough, the wide-eyed housekeeper squeaked, "Sir?"

"Never mind," he mumbled. He rolled out of bed and might have simply gone to see Hinata in his pajamas – which he likely would have done if he had been in his apartment – but he was apparently thinking clearly enough to decide that with circumstances being what they were, he was no longer only representing himself. In the future he would definitely have to take care to think more stringently so as to not embarrass his family.

_Stringency . . ._ his mind echoed thoughtfully, as though tasting the unfamiliar word.

_Whoa,_ Sarcasm inserted derisively. _New thought there, eh, Mister Perfect?_

Naruto snorted. _That would be Sasuke's designation, thanks._ He looked at the housekeeper uncertainly, not the least bit comfortable being faced with the reality of someone actually _serving_ him, and asked, "Is it okay if I ask you to get me something to wear while I take a really quick shower?"

"Certainly, Naruto-sama!" the girl confirmed quickly, as though horrified that he might _not_ have asked her if he felt her unworthy of the duty. "Did you have something in mind?"

"No, not par—" He paused as he considered the immediate future. "Well, now that I think about it, can you make it something that I can train in later?"

"Yes sir!" she vowed fervently.

"Thanks." He moved to leave the room, but had to stop before he even reached the door. "Er . . . Where's the bathroom?"

Blushing brightly, the girl got into a drawer and handed him a pair of boxers. Which, he imagined, would probably be far more appropriate than wandering around in a house full of women clad in nothing but a towel like he had originally planned. It was a good thing he had people double-checking his behavior. "Go to the right, then take another, and it'll be the second door on your left, Naruto-sama."

"Thanks," he repeated as he strode from his room and took a right turn.

It was definitely rude to make Hinata wait, but he had been told that the last bath that he had gotten was the day before he woke in the hospital. His body was still pretty clean, since it was hardly as though he had gone out and done actual _work_, but the waterless shampoo should have been sent back to the drawing board. Beyond that, it was hard to say how she would behave without asking someone. Taking Kakashi-sensei into account, Hinata could very easily turn out to be a clingy chatterbox, in which case it would probably not be smart to repel her. Her father might find out and get offended.

The shower was brief and, as promised, clothes had been laid out on his bed for him by the time he returned to his room. He was mildly relieved to see his usual disturbingly orange jumpsuit – not _everything_ had changed. Even so, he frowned at it, because it was his _old_ one. The one he had worn until he was fourteen and a half and only changed out of because it had become a ragged mess. Careful to avoid thinking about what he had been doing and who he had been with at that time, he crept over to where the vanity sat near the window and peeked into the mirror. What he saw did not please him in the slightest.

He looked twelve. _Maybe_ thirteen. How he had not noticed the height difference before that point he did not know, unless he admitted that he could be extremely unobservant when he wanted to be. On the other hand, he had not really been free to gape at himself until that moment. Nevertheless, he frowned deeply at his reflection with the realization that the situation was much worse than he had initially thought. But, regardless of the revelation, he still needed more information. Perhaps that was something Hinata could help with.

He saw in the mirror that the housekeeper was doing some minor cleaning – his room was actually not that dirty and he doubted that he had any positive involvement in that condition – so he decided to talk to her while he got dressed. Fortunately, dressing himself was something he was apparently expected to be able to do; he doubted he could have stood still while people he barely knew touched him in places he was very defensive of.

"I noticed you didn't comment on my not knowing anything," he tested.

"Hokage-sama informed us of your condition so you would not have to," the girl explained easily.

"I see. In that case, refresh my memory. What's your name?"

"Shinju, Naruto-sama."

Pearl. She certainly had skin like one, if nothing else. "How old are you?"

"Sixteen."

He blinked. He was hardly an expert, but it seemed a bit old to be keeping house; if she had not intended to become a kunoichi and was not married then she should have been an apprentice to a weaver or potter or something. "Why are you here?"

"After Hokage-sama rescued Hotaru-sama," Shinju answered readily, as though she had rehearsed it, "the lady wanted to continue with that gift of hope and save others like her. I am one of those, as are the other caretakers here. Only Aya-san and Hitomi-san are from the village."

Naruto looked around the room and allowed himself to be impressed by the extent of its cleanliness. "Are you the only one who cleans my room?"

"Yes."

"Not that you aren't doing a good job," he assured her when she seemed to be distressed, "but why?"

"Because I'm closest to your age and Hotaru-sama thought that you might appreciate it after Akiko-sama was born. She was a baby then, and a lot of the attention was shifted from you for a while." She shook her head and added quietly, ". . . It was very hard for you to accept Akiko-sama because you had been an only child for so many years. I was new at the time, so you were tasked with being sure I knew my way about."

Naruto had already guessed the answer from her behavior, but inquired anyway, "Are we close?"

"Not very," was the eloquent response.

He made a mental note to rectify that. Her behavior indicated that she had never really settled down to life in the manor and she seemed _afraid_ of him. "Are you ever going to leave this place?"

Shinju shook her head again, her face scarlet with her embarrassment. "Hokage-sama generously offered to help us find husbands or acquire work or an education and some of the girls _have_ done those, but I'm far too shy to. This is the only place I know in Konoha."

He managed to hide a gawk of disbelief and decided to mark the note 'urgent'. "What sort of education do you have, if I may?"

_Who the hell are you?_ Sarcasm demanded. _Uzumaki Naruto doesn't have enough class to speak that way._

_Not all of us are as transparent as you,_ Naruto hissed back viciously. _Surprise!_

"I can read and write a little," Shinju revealed shyly.

It was a place to start, at least. He glanced at the clock on the chest of drawers and winced; Hinata had been waiting for half an hour. "I really have to go, but I'd like to talk to you later, okay?"

". . . Yes sir," was the startled reply.

He left his room, marvelling at the sudden streak of goodwill toward the girl. Not that he would never have _wanted_ to help, but normally he would have read her reluctance and, because she was a stranger and content with things, not pushed the issue. The difference, he realized with confusion, was that she did not _feel_ like a stranger even though he was one hundred percent certain he had not met her before.

_Fascinating,_ Kyuubi murmured, though what he was remarking on was unclear.

_Any ideas?_ Naruto prompted.

_One, but I need to organize my thoughts. As you were – I'll explain when I work this out._

Naruto sighed to the empty hallway. _I hate being left in the dark._

* * *

To be continued in . . . **Chapter 4**** – Cluing In**

The grounds that would be _his_ someday, he informed himself with the same calm assertiveness that he had felt all his life when it came to being Hokage.

Despite what many people thought, being Hokage had not been entirely the result of the aggression he had suffered as a child. It did _firm_ his resolve, but had not _initiated_ the thought. He had been nearly six years old when he hadlooked out his apartment window, seen the Monument lit rather handsomely by the morning sun, admired it, and then wondered with genuine curiosity, "Wait . . . where did _my_ head go?"

* * *

**Answers To Questions You Didn't Even Know You Wanted To Ask:**

**"Hotaru-san." … "After Hokage-sama rescued Hotaru-sama,"**

Some of you may remember that in _DNT_, Arashi was "Hokage-sama" and Hotaru was "Lady Hotaru". Then and now, I believe(d) that "Lady Hotaru" is slightly more elegant than "Hotaru-sama" (in case anyone was wondering, this is the decisive proof you need that I am nothing but a stupid, ignorant American with virtually no concept of cultural niceties). However, for uniformity's sake I've finally changed it. Depending on your personal opinion, either I apologize or you're welcome.

———

**_'Cogito ergo sum.'_**

The most basic concept, in Latin, of the philosophy of Descartes (who clearly had too much time on his hands). The English translation is: "I think, therefore I exist," or, more colloquially: "I think, therefore I am."

The Joke: Descartes has been travelling for a while, doing whatever it is philosophers do, and finally enters a local pub. He sits at the bar and enjoys a mug of his preferred drink, then rises once he finishes it. The bartender sees that he's ready to leave and asks companionably, "One for the road?" Descartes answers, "I think not," and disappears.

(For anyone who doesn't get it or doesn't have time or the desire to think about it, let me put it this way: "I think (not), therefore I am (not)." Hence, if Descartes has to think to exist but "thinks not", then by his own philosophy he doesn't exist and thus he vanishes.)

———

**"Hinata-chan?" he murmured sleepily …**

For the uninitiated, the _-chan_ suffix often refers to the age of someone; for example, Akiko is not three years old yet, so she is _Akiko-chan_. If Naruto were her age he himself might be called _Naruto-chan_, but his position would demand a measure of respect and most people would likely refer to him as _Naruto-kun_ (if not _Naruto-sama_) even if he was only three years old. At any rate, the older someone is the less proper it is to use _-chan_ or _-kun_ without being given permission by that person (_-san_ is most appropriate in a typical situation). Particularly in the case of a teenage boy or a grown man, using _-chan_ would imply a considerable level of intimacy and/or would definitely be taken as an insult to his masculinity if strict permission had not been granted prior.

Along those lines, while calling a teen girl _-chan_ is not exactly terrible, it does imply closeness (that's why Naruto always calls Sakura "Sakura-chan" – though he doesn't use _-chan_ with the other girls – and why she hates it). So Naruto referring to parallel!Hinata as "Hinata-chan", which would not have been a big deal in canonverse because everyone there knows how he is, was almost a scandalous thing for him to say in parallelverse. As I understand it, at least. If I'm wrong on any of that, feel free to correct me.

——————————

It's time to play a quick game of _Draw Your Own Conclusion_! Shinju is very shy and gets nervous when she's stared at. If you review, you won't be staring. Draw your own conclusion.

~RN (LS)


	4. Cluing In

**Author's Notes:** Okay, **Death-God-777** has drawn and colored the most **precious** picture of Akiko. This will be the first picture focusing strictly on Nyoko/Akiko; the only other place she appeared was when **Lizeth** sketched a bunch of images for _Door Number Two_ – the biggest sketch was of Naruto holding Nyoko/Akiko. The address is http: //deathgod 777. deviantart. com/art /Namikaze-Akiko-103630856, minus the spaces of course, but if that doesn't come through I advise you to follow the link in my profile **immediately** and look at this picture (and comment on it), or you can go to DeviantArt's website and type 'Namikaze Akiko' into the search engine.

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone! And I do mean **everyone**, for we **all** have things to be thankful for.

Also, congrats to **Eli** for being very clever indeed.

**Word Count:** 5573 (**Total:** 21041)

**Date Submitted:** 11/28/08

* * *

**Chapter 4**** – Cluing In**

* * *

He had to seek assistance from another one of the housekeepers to find Hinata. Oddly, it was not difficult to follow the request with a command that an energy drink be brought to him, though after his interaction with Shinju he should not have been surprised. When he reached the room in which Hinata had been made comfortable, he was relieved to see that her choice in clothes had not changed at all.

"Hey, Hinata," he greeted neutrally, having decided to let her 'explain' their relationship. "Sorry you had to wait so long."

She waved a polite dismissal in response and sipped at some tea someone had though to offer her; the blush she usually wore around him was completely absent. And despite telling himself repeatedly that he would infinitely prefer it if she did _not_ blush incessantly, seeing the reality still came across as weird. "It's all right. Father was being anal again, so Neji-niisan and I agreed that we should vacate the clan grounds for a while. This was the first place I thought of. Your father won't mind, will he?"

If his father trusted him alone in a house full of female caretakers, then surely Hinata's presence would not be regarded as a problem either, despite her social position. "I doubt it. Hanabi's here?"

A prim nod. "She's playing with Akiko-chan." Her milky eyes gazed steadily at him for a moment. "I heard that you were involved in an incident."

"I was," he admitted. "Just woke up the day before yesterday."

"Are you all right?" she questioned, sounding genuinely worried, though hardly hysterical.

He shrugged. "More or less. Can't remember anything before I woke up, though."

"You knew me," she offered, confused.

He grimaced mentally and Sarcasm spat, _She's not from a kekkei genkai just because of her eyes, idiot._

Thanks to that unrequested interjection, he was able to feign frustration with little effort. "Yeah, but I didn't recognize Akiko or Mom and I only knew Dad as the Hokage. I knew Kakashi, though. It's . . . It's either there or it isn't – there's no rhyme or reason to it that I can see." That there _was_ a reason was not a clue he would share; it was not her business.

"Is that all that's wrong?"

"I'm not having seizures, if that's what you're asking," he confirmed. "My memory seems like it's the only thing askew so far." And his sanity appeared to want to follow in its footsteps.

She made a sympathetic noise. "Sounds rough, all in all."

"Nah," he countered playfully. "Dad's been great, making sure I've been comfortable and stuff. It's been kind of strange to be pampered, but nice at the same time."

Hinata leaned in like a true gossip and said in a low voice, "You know, the entire village was in an uproar when you were taken to the hospital. When word spread about your condition and how upset the Hokage was, all the available ninja in the area searched the village and the forest – even the sky. Of course, they had no idea who or what was responsible, but they went out anyway. It was a sight to see."

He thought she was joking and nearly told her that the village would never do anything in regards to him unless it was some kind of demon hunt. It occurred to him where he was, though, and he shut his mouth. The village cared about him in the new world he inhabited, even if it was only as the Hokage's son.

That was a new thought too.

"E . . . Excuse me . . . Naruto-sama?"

Both turned toward the door and he tilted his head. "Yes, Shinju?"

She dipped her head like an apologetic bird. "Please forgive me for interrupting your discussion, but the private training ground has been swept and secured."

"It has?" Of course, it would only be expected that he would be treated so carefully, especially with the one who attacked him still at large and particularly if he was going to return to the place where he was attacked. "Oh, all right. Thank you." She bowed deeply and left and he turned toward Hinata. "Want to train?"

"Sure. Let me tell Hanabi." They found her still with Akiko and Hitomi, who promised to watch over her until Hinata's return. "I'll never understand why babies fascinate her so much," Hinata mused as they headed to the training grounds. Her head suddenly jerked down so that her chin was tucked near her chest, and she asked in a soft, wary voice, ". . . Are we being followed?"

Naruto, who had – typically – not been paying any attention, paused and sniffed lightly at the air. He would have to fix that; it was undoubtedly how he had gotten into his situation in the first place. "Yeah," he confirmed calmly. "Two. Probably guards or something." He turned slightly and raised his voice to the empty path and trees. "Whoever had miso needs to be more careful. It smells like you spilled half the bowl on yourself."

Only silence answered, but by the sudden change in the previously neutral air to the conflicting sensations of amusement and annoyance, he knew they had heard him.

"Let's go," he prompted Hinata, in the manner of blithe unconcern he had unknowingly affected when he had – in the _real_ Konoha – achieved a level of power that only the desperate, or ignorant, shinobi dared to strike at. Though he had, also typically, not realized exactly what it was that made him so feared; he knew only that he was, and after so many years he simply assumed that they were afraid of him because of Kyuubi, the same way everyone else was. He had always intended to 'fix' the problem, so that they feared him for his name and not something over which he had so little control, but it was a work in progress. "If they attack us, I'll protect you."

_With __**what**__, Mister Lack-of-Chakra?_ Sarcasm sneered.

_Kyuubi,_ Naruto responded, since he doubted his ability to remember how to fully operate the more compact body he had possessed five years ago and found himself suddenly occupying again.

_Stop talking to yourself,_ the giant fox in question commanded distractedly.

_I wouldn't have to if you were better company,_ Naruto shot back, and wondered, not for the first time, if the kitsune could actually hear that part of him. Sometimes Kyuubi would agree with Sarcasm on one thing or another, but other times it was as though he was unaware it even existed.

Fortunately, in either case Naruto was used to having such conversations and not revealing them to those who already thought he was a little off, so Hinata did not notice anything odd as they strode along a generously tree-shaded path with a careful pair of ANBU – or at least that was what he assumed they were, since he had taunted them but they had not attacked and he sensed no killing intent – tagging along in the branches of the aforementioned trees. They arrived at the private training ground, and only then did it occur to Naruto _which_ private training ground he was in; he stared in wide-eyed awe as he took in the cleared area. It was not that remarkable a place, really, nor did it have training equipment that was notably grander than a standard training ground, but it was fenced by trees and was the Hokage's _private_ training ground.

The _Hokage's_ private training ground.

The grounds that would be _his_ someday, he informed himself with the same calm assertiveness that he had felt all his life when it came to being Hokage.

Despite what many people thought, being Hokage had not been entirely the result of the aggression he had suffered as a child. It did _firm_ his resolve, but had not _initiated_ the thought. He had been nearly six years old the day he hadlooked out his apartment window, seen the Monument lit rather handsomely by the morning sun, admired it, and then wondered with genuine curiosity, _"Wait . . . where did my head go?"_

Ever since then, being Hokage had been an absolute certainty to Naruto – merely a matter of time.

"—come here often," Hinata was saying. "They can't. I sometimes wonder why this is even here."

Naruto desperately searched his memory for a hint as to what she was talking about. Finally, he exposed his lack of attention. ". . . Huh?"

She looked back at him; apparently, he had stopped at the edge of the grounds while she had continued in. "I said that the Hokage never come here often. They're so busy they generally can't."

"Oh," he said lamely.

_Very nice,_ Sarcasm praised.

Hinata's opaque eyes suddenly took on a cast of concern as her brows drew together. "Naruto-sama? Are you feeling all right?"

"Yeah," he answered blankly. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"Well," she explained, suddenly and for the first time showing some hesitation reminiscent of the Hinata he knew, right down to the odd little hand gestures she used to draw direct attention away from her face, "this is where your father found you after . . . after you were attacked. I just wanted to make sure you weren't feeling any post-traumatic stress or anything."

"Nah," Naruto answered easily. "Can't remember a thing about the whole mess." He obviously could not even remember where it had happened, though it _was_ interesting that he was there where the incident had occurred. He had never thought to ask about it earlier, so thrown had he been by the idea of seeing dead people alive and suddenly having a family. He peered around himself, thinking that there might be clues.

_Ha!_ Sarcasm shrieked. _You don't have a single idea as to what you're looking for! Maybe you think you're supposed to find a __**sign**__ pointing to what you want? You're an __**idiot**__. Better shinobi than you have already gone over this whole area with a fine-toothed comb – multiple times, no doubt – and found __**nothing**__. What makes you think a dweeb like __**you**__ will find something?_

Naruto nearly laughed. _A __**dweeb**__? Is that the best you can do, tootsie roll?_

With Sarcasm silenced for the time being – it hated being made fun of, oddly enough, though seeing as he had also refused to allow names to hurt him, he should not have been so surprised – Naruto was able to focus on the training grounds again. The set-up was humble enough, though its isolation made its importance clear. It would also be quite easy for any enemy-nin to ambush anyone who was there alone, which would not be an issue for someone as great as a Kage with even just one guard, but someone less was something else.

He wondered if he had been alone in the training field; there should have been at least one guard with him at all times. It was a disturbing thought, that he might have somehow been without one. _Surely_ he would not have been as much of a punk if the village had actually liked him and there had been a family for him to go home to every evening, so he logically could not have been a good enough shinobi at his age to ditch ANBU and run off no matter who his father was. Konohamaru always had Ebisu after him, and there had even always been someone around to back Asuma up until Akatsuki became a problem. If Naruto had been alone, he could only have been alone because he had either _not_ been required to have a guard or because he had been deliberately abandoned.

". . . _Naruto-sama_?"

He jumped and looked at Hinata, who was had moved closer and was staring at him in concern. "What?"

Sarcasm howled. _Do you have any idea how long you've been staring into space like a __**moron**__?_

_Shut up!_ he snapped.

_I realize you've been hit on the head several times in your life,_ Kyuubi inserted, _but do you really have so many dead brain cells that you don't know what it means to __**be quiet**__?_

_Maybe you haven't noticed,_ Naruto snarled, _but we aren't alone in my head!_

_What are you talking about?_ the fox demanded. _**We**__ aren't even in your head._

Hinata frowned. "Maybe we should leave . . ."

"No!" Naruto promised, discarding his internal arguments. "I'm fine, I swear! Let's just spar so I can focus on something or I'll start thinking again."

_Oh, __**that**__ didn't sound like a hint of post-traumatic stress at __**all**__,_ Sarcasm cackled.

_**Fuck you**__,_ Naruto intoned coolly.

_Excuse me?_ Kyuubi asked darkly.

Naruto turned his attention to the fox, whose presence loomed ominously. _Touch me and I'll scream._

". . . Naruto-sama . . .?"

The fox snorted. _Oh, right. Because they'll only think you're crazy. No harm done, though, since it's more than clear that you are. Now __**shut up**__ before I find a need to abolish some of your happy memories._

It was a harsh threat that had silenced Naruto on several prior and mostly forgotten occasions – his happy memories were absolutely his most precious possessions – but for the first time he was much too angry to accept it and barked instead, _Tell that to your tag team bitch!_

Someone touched him suddenly, a grasp of his left shoulder, and Naruto's distracted mind and body simply reacted. He turned to his right and dropped the corresponding shoulder so that he could bring his left arm up and curl it around the arm the touching hand was attached to. Once he had a successful grip, Naruto twisted sharply to his left and down, yanking his assailant off balance and bringing the other into strike range. He then brought his right hand in and chopped his opponent on the back of the neck.

"Naruto-sama?!"

He blinked and found himself looking at an obviously startled Hinata and a not-quite-as-obviously startled ANBU, though the slightly up-drawn hands gave the truth away. He shifted his attention downward and realized he was holding the dead weight of the other ANBU between his arm and his hip.

_. . . Shit._

_Hahahahahahaha!_ Sarcasm offered sympathetically.

Hinata seemed ready to leap away at a moment's notice, but was bravely holding her ground as long as he did not make a move toward her. ". . . I think we should go home, Naruto-sama."

"No!" he protested again, only half aware he was defending a dead end. "I swear, I'm fine!"

The ANBU looked pointedly at his unconscious comrade, and Hinata stomped one foot. "Naruto-sama, you just attacked your own guard. Even if you're _not_ feeling anything related to what happened here, you obviously can't focus effectively on training. We should go back to your house and find something else to do for now. I'll take a rain check on the spar, okay?"

He sighed and gave up. "Oh . . . _okay_." _Maybe I'm moving too fast. I __**do**__ need to work out exactly how I got here before I start playing around; I could hurt someone by accident, after all. And I don't even know what I can or can't do yet anyway . . ._

_Virtually nothing,_ Kyuubi noted, at the same time Sarcasm said, _Assuming you __**could**__ do anything before._

It actually did not take as long as Naruto had thought it might for the ANBU he had attacked to wake up, and he supposed he really was a lot weaker, since the hit should have knocked him out for at least three hours. He apologized for his lack of control – for that was what it had been, really, to so easily attack a comrade – and when the ANBU was sure he was fully recovered, the four of them set out from the training grounds. Less than a quarter of the way along the path that led to the manor, with the ANBU in the trees overhead, Naruto was briefly blinded by a flicker of silver. He blinked, then stopped and backed up until he saw it again.

"Naruto-sama?" Hinata asked, confused and a bit concerned.

"I'm okay," he promised as he detoured from the trail. "There's something in one of the trees."

Naruto was not used to anyone being overly worried about his physical health, so he did not think to wait for the ANBU to return to his location and dig out the piece of reflective material – presumably some sliver of metal – for him. His response to being abruptly grabbed and hefted away from the tree that he had singled out, therefore, was a startled, "I w— _ark_!"

"Naruto-sama, please!" the ANBU holding him chided, while the other landed silently in front of the tree where Naruto had been standing and began to peer at the trunk. "You do not know what it is!"

_That's new,_ Kyuubi mused distantly, _for them to fret so over your well-being. They must not realize yet that they'd prefer you to be dead._

Naruto rolled his eyes but stopped struggling, and the ANBU set him on his feet, though he was not given the chance to roam the area. He watched the other ANBU do something to the tree trunk in a very careful way and finally turn, the debris held firmly in gloved fingers.

"It's odd," the one masked shinobi said, presumably to his partner, offering for viewing what appeared to be simple flake of silver. "This has been here for weeks – we should have found it far earlier, whether or not it had anything to do with the attack."

Unsurprised by that particular revelation – for Kyuubi's senses improved his own to a rather ridiculous degree – Naruto reached up and quietly plucked the piece from his guard's fingers, only to have both ANBU startle and then roll their heads on their shoulders in exasperation. He ducked away from the hands of his guards and in the process reawakened the glee of victory he had always felt when he had gained the attention of the village shinobi as a child. He darted away and grabbed Hinata's hand in his free one and called over his shoulder to the bewildered ninja, "Just try to catch me!"

"Naruto-sama!" Hinata said as she stumbled after him, her feet trying hard to keep up. "What in the world are you doing?!"

"Just having a little fun, Hinata-chan!" he vowed. "Let's go!"

"W . . . _Waaaaaiiiit_!" she objected.

The ANBU did not try nearly hard enough to actually achieve anything that could be considered 'stopping' him. As he slipped into the manner, Naruto decided that he had dealt with far worse simply while trying to avoid Konohamaru. He ran Hinata to Akiko's room, where Hanabi still was, and took the opportunity to catch his breath as Hitomi stared at him in worried alarm.

"Naruto-sama?" she asked.

He waved at her, and Hinata filled in for him as she dusted off her jacket. "He's having a moment, I think."

Pleased by her lack of mortification to his lack of obedience, he responded to her exasperated sarcasm by sticking out his tongue, and she responded in turn with a weak smack to his head that was obviously not meant to be disciplinary. Naruto then held out the piece of metal toward Hitomi, careful to keep it out of Akiko's eager reach so that she did not accidentally cut herself on its jagged edges.

"Found this!" he gasped. "'M gonna see if Dad can tell what it is!"

"I'll stay here while you rampage," Hinata decided. "Perhaps Father has cooled down a bit. But I will be expecting you to come through on training together."

Naruto offered her a thumbs-up as he turned toward the open window. "Sorry it couldn't be today, doll."

_**Doll**__?_ Kyuubi echoed in disbelief.

He narrowly escaped being captured upon his exit by performing a gorgeous twist-and-handspring to evade the grasp of one of his guards while he backflipped over the second. One of the first's hand wrapped around his right ankle suddenly and he narrowly managed to break free. They were figuring him out much more quickly than he had thought they would.

_Of course,_ Sarcasm reminded him. _They __**are**__ elite shinobi._

He made a beeline for the administration building, which meant going straight down the face of the cliff the Monument was on, but even having access to so little of his chakra he had been walking on vertical surfaces for long enough that he knew how to conserve energy. It took almost no time to get to the bottom of the cliff and behind the wall that was meant more as a time-consuming obstacle than an actual method of defense, and he zipped around to the front of the building. He ducked into the hall on the bottom floor; it was a complete ring and he was positive they would attempt to surround him, so he hopped to the left, skidded through the first door on his right, and listened as one of his guards leaped past. Quickly, because it would not take long for the two ANBU to meet up and realize he had gotten away from them, he slipped back outside and hurried up the outer shell of the building.

It was his luck that one of the windows to the Hokage's office was indeed open, and Naruto immediately dove through, then rolled up onto his feet to find himself staring at his father. It was the only thing he could think at first, despite that his childhood hero had apparently leaned back and fallen asleep with his arms limp at his sides and his head dropped onto the chair's shoulder-high back in such a way that his mouth was hanging wide open. It was not exactly a picture of grace, but there was no snoring right at that moment, either.

None of it mattered, though, because that was _his father_.

As though approaching a wild animal, all thoughts of his strange discovery forgotten, Naruto crept in closer and pushed himself onto his toes to get a better look at the man he had never met but admired all the same. Possibly Konoha's most beloved leader, the Fourth Hokage.

_My father. __**Mine**__._

_Oh,_ Kyuubi muttered, _well __**that**__ didn't seem the least bit fanatical._

_If it weren't for __**you**__,_ Naruto snarled back, _I wouldn't __**have**__ to seem fanatical._

_Wah wah wah,_ Sarcasm sneered. _You brought it on yourself, you know._

Before Naruto could contest that, there was a knock on the office door. It had to have been his guards, so he ducked into the leg space between the drawers of his father's desk while the elder blond snorted and lifted his head. Naruto picked himself off the floor to avoid detection, his hands and feet braced against all available flat surfaces of the area beneath the desk. There was an unintelligible mutter from his disgruntled father, who quickly scooted his wheeled chair up under the desk for the sake of appearances and inadvertently kneed Naruto squarely in the gut. In response, Naruto made a noise rather like that of one of the soft squeaky toys Kakashi's ninken liked to throttle and chew on in their spare time.

The Fourth shoved away from his desk and leaped to his feet. "What the hell?!"

The ANBU outside had doubtless thought he might have been attacked, so it was no surprise that the office door abruptly burst open and slammed against the wall with an unnecessarily loud bang, which caused the Fourth to jump again. "Hokage-sama!"

"Damn it, how many times have I told you to _not_ do that?!" Arashi barked in aggravated frustration. "I only have one heart, you know, and I kind of need it, but it won't do me any good if you scare it to death!"

"We thought you were under attack," one said by way of apology.

Arashi grumbled, but it was a valid concern. Or, at least, he could not argue it without having the rest of the village tell him to shut up and let his subordinates do their jobs. "'M fine," he told them as he moved closer to his desk and started to bend down. "Just found something soft under my desk."

"Shall we check it, Hokage-sama?" the other ANBU inquired.

"No, it's probably just a toad," was the response. "They like dark places." Naruto lifted his gaze to meet the pale blue of his father's, and for a moment nothing was said. Then, turned half upside-down, Arashi decided, "You are absolutely _the_ ugliest toad I have ever seen."

Naruto rolled his eyes.

"Why, pray tell, are you concealing yourself under my desk like a terrified gecko, my intrepid firstborn?"

The jig was up, so Naruto let himself drop to the floor. "I didn't want to get caught before I saw you."

One pale eyebrow lifted in query, and the Fourth stepped back as the smaller blond crawled from his hiding place. "If you broke something of your mother's you are entirely on your own, pal."

Naruto stood and dusted off his knees with the hand that was not tightly holding onto his discovery. "No, Hinata-chan and I went out to train but I couldn't focus – but _not_ because it was traumatic, for fuck's sake – so we left the field and I found _this_." He held up the hand that he had clasped the fragment in and felt a stinging pain as he opened it; the pain was familiar, so he tilted his hand toward himself to confirm that it had indeed pricked his palm, then offered it up again and added, "Well, not the blood."

His father frowned at the upright fragment, then supported Naruto's small hand with his much larger one before he carefully plucked the shard loose. He dropped it onto his desk, retrieved a white handkerchief from his pocket, licked it, and looked down his nose at the tiny puncture as he dabbed at the blood that was drying around it. Naruto watched, mystified by a gesture that was so obviously and completely _parental_ and most definitely _not_ what one expected a leader of shinobi to allow himself to be caught doing.

"Feeling okay?" the Fourth questioned.

"Yeah," Naruto answered. "Why?"

"Just checking," was the vague answer. "You see, Naruto, the idea is that you find something strange and let your _guards_, whose primary purpose is to protect you rather than to simply decorate whichever path you choose to walk, collect it for you. That way your mother and I don't have to worry that people might succeed at harming you in indirect fashions." The pale eyes drifted up to meet Naruto's. "Does that make sense?"

"I can take care of myself," Naruto informed him, chafing a bit at the idea of being coddled so thoroughly. A little coddling he could bear, but not when he felt suffocated.

"Your mother is a hopeless case – she'll never let you grow up if she can help it – but give me some time to see that for myself, all right?"

"Okay," Naruto acknowledged, careful to not sound as dismissive as he felt. Wherever he was, he reminded himself, things were different and he needed to be patient and play along for a while.

"Thank you." The Fourth paused in his cleaning and turned Naruto's hand so that the light would hit it at several angles. He seemed to spot more blood, because he licked the handkerchief again and went back to scrubbing Naruto's palm very gently. "Now, you say you were training with Hinata-san?"

"I tried," Naruto corrected. "I couldn't focus."

He received his father's undivided attention for a moment. ". . . Where did you attempt to train?"

"The private grounds," Naruto replied. "But I wasn't, like, getting weird because I was attacked there," he explained quickly. "I didn't even remember it until Hinata told me. I just couldn't concentrate. It's no big deal – it happens sometimes. I still wanted to train, but I kind of laid the smack down on one of them" – he gestured at his guards, who shifted sheepishly – "and Hinata decided that we had to leave because she thought I was suffering from post-traumatic stress even though I told her I was fine."

"Good girl," his father praised. "Every man needs a woman who will tell him when he needs to quit it with the macho shit. And don't tell your mother I cursed in front of you, please."

Naruto ignored the comment, mainly because Sakura was _always_ telling him to stop 'with the macho shit' even when he was _not_ trying to be macho. Plus, he cursed all the time himself – and Sakura, whenever she got mad enough – so he was used to hearing it. "So we were leaving and part of the way back I found that." He pointed at the fragment with his free hand. "I wanted to show you."

The Fourth picked up the shard and examined it with a thoughtful frown, then said, "I think it's mercury."

"_Daaaaaad_," Naruto sighed, and managed to hide his surprise at how easily the fond exasperation and the title had escaped him. "Mercury is a liquid."

He was given a significant look and realized that he had been tested. "Very good. What it _really_ looks like is pure silver, because it's so shiny, but I wouldn't bet on it unless I'd done some experimenting first. Where did you find this, again? Close to the private training grounds?"

Naruto nodded. "In a tree trunk."

The Fourth was thoughtful again. ". . . Huh. Weird." He shook his thoughts away and smiled. "Hey, since you're here, why don't we have lunch?"

Naruto, always ready to eat, perked up instantly. "It's lunchtime?"

"I've decided that it is," was the immediate response. "I can't leave here because I'm not finished with this morning's paperwork—"

He recalled his father's nap and said dryly, "I wonder why."

"—but would you get us something from Ichiraku?" the Fourth concluded, giving him a pointed but hardly disciplinary smack to the underside of his chin for his cheek.

Still, they were magic words.

Naruto brightened. He was always up for ramen. "Sure!"

'_Oh, I'm getting to eat with my __**hero**__!'_ Sarcasm intoned. _'I'm so happy I could act like an __**idiot**__!'_

_You're wearing out your welcome, asshole,_ Naruto informed it. _**Real**__ fast._

_You weren't talking to me __**again**__, were you?_ Kyuubi wondered.

_No,_ Naruto answered. _Go back to whatever you were doing and leave me the hell alone, both of you._

Kyuubi's presence inflated warningly. _I don't __**have**__ to while away my time pondering the universe for you, you algae-eating __**maggot**__. Do __**not**__ push me._

". . . Are you feeling all right, Naruto?"

". . . Huh?" was the brilliant initial response, which was followed by, "Oh, yeah! Why?" The dubious look he was given made him realize that as good as he was at hiding his arguments with his internal associates, the people he was _usually_ around did not bat an eye at his tendency to tune out unless it was during an assignment. And that difference could be inconvenient.

"Your breath is a little warm."

Naruto grimaced internally, but dared not curse the fox for it while in a populated area. "I've been running for the past fifteen minutes," he pointed out. "I may feel good, but I'm not _that_ recovered."

"Then maybe someone else should get the ram—"

"_No_," Naruto asserted firmly. "I can do it. I'm not going to be dragging someone around after me, first of all, or trying to dodge anyone else who might be trying to grab me."

". . . If you're sure."

"As a sunrise," Naruto confirmed. "Give me money."

"Don't ask for much, do ya?" his father asked as he reached into a pocket. "Pay for yourself, you leech."

"It was your idea," Naruto pointed out, "and you offered."

The Fourth made a rude noise, but slapped some paper bills into his hand. "I want the shrimp special. And be quick, ingrate."

Naruto normally would have taken offense at the word, but it was said without heat. Instead, he offered an insolent salute and slipped back through the window before anyone could point out that it was fine to use the door. Not that he necessarily would have, since ninja tended to enter or exit the a location from multiple points depending purely on their approach or destination, whether or not they were worried about traps. In either case, it was simply better to not be consistent so as to not be predictable and therefore make oneself less of a target.

With a fond smile, Arashi watched his son quietly leave his office, but after a moment the smile faded and his brows drew together as he reflected on the past several minutes. The interaction had seemed so natural, and yet it was almost nothing like how Naruto had acted before he was attacked.

". . . How strange . . ." Arashi sank back into his chair and turned to the two ANBU he had assigned to keep watch over his firstborn. One had not been enough at any point before, and it seemed two were only barely adequate. He did not know if he could spare a whole squad to watch over his son.

_Who cares if I can?_ Anxiety demanded. _I __**have**__ to! This isn't __**just**__ watching over him – I can't let something happen to him __**again**__!_

He pointed between the masked ninja. "Which one of you did he trounce?"

One of the ANBU promptly vanished in a swirl of leaves to follow Naruto while the other's posture slipped into that which better befitted an embarrassed elite shinobi.

* * *

To be continued in . . . **Chapter 5**** – Forming Attachments**

Naruto was hardly a stranger to disappointment, so at first he did not register the faint sinking sensation in his chest when he was granted permission to enter his father's office and stepped in only to find the Third sitting in a chair on the near side of the desk. He further failed to notice the twinge of hurt because he was too busy gawking at the only person who had ever believed in him for his whole life, the same person who had died when he was thirteen, as he slowly crossed the room.

"Good afternoon, Naruto," the Third said with the same gentle geniality Naruto remembered. "I'm glad to hear that you're feeling well after your unfortunate encounter."

* * *

**Answers To Questions You Didn't Even Know You Wanted To Ask:**

Many thanks to **n8thie**, who offered this: 波風 ミナト _That's Namikaze Minato, from the original Japanese._

My computer is incapable of doing anything other than supporting non-English languages on my computer screen – I can't write in them (as far as I know, anyway). Seeing these languages written out tickles me, and it's fun to magnify the image and examine each line while being entirely unaware of what they mean in the grand scheme of the word(s). However, I **do** know enough to say that this has – of course – been written in the proper format of surname first, with the first two characters being _nami_ and _kaze_, respectively, and the last three being the syllables of _minato_.

———

**… ****his happy memories were absolutely his most precious possessions …**

Not to be confused with his precious **people**, for whom he would doubtless instantly give up his happy memories.

———

**"I w— _ark_!"**

_Wark_. Excuse me while I gigglesnort over in my corner. For those of you who are not "in" on this joke, it's not really important, but if you'd like to know then _wark_ is the sound that was originally made by large and usually yellow birds – known as _chocobos_ – which have a crest of feathers that stick up straight on their heads and are used as transportation and beasts of burden in the _Final Fantasy_ series. By the time of _Final Fantasy IX_, however, they began to make the much cuter _kweh_ sound, and _wark_ has more or less been lost. There are people out there who have complained about this change (who clearly have too much time on their hands if that's all they worry about), but the actual audio tracks have changed very little from game to game, so as far as I'm concerned chocobos say _kweh_ when they're happy and _wark_ when they want to peck your eyeballs out. Problem solved.

———

**"No, it's probably just a toad," was the response. "They like dark places."**

Toads happen to like dark, moist places. Not wet – frogs are the wet ones – just moist.

——————————

It's time to play a quick game of _Draw Your Own Conclusion_! Hinata is worrying that someone is influencing Naruto. If you review, you couldn't possibly be spending time influencing him. Draw your own conclusion.

~RN (LS)


	5. Forming Attachments

**Author's Notes:** Well, I meant for this to be posted last week, but whatever. Ultimately, I hesitated in posting this chapter because a portion of it will doubtless raise all kinds of hell that I really don't want to have to deal with. However, rewriting the chapter is pointless or otherwise unnecessary for multiple reasons so I'll simply have to deal with it, and so will those of you who might feel a need to take issue with the concept introduced. Don't worry – it's nothing risqué. Presumably. At any rate, I address the potential reactions in the "Answers To Questions" section, but not necessarily nicely depending on your personal thoughts. Do both of us a favor and at least skim that address for my response to your possible viewpoint **before** you review and tell me what a dipshit I am. Moving on . . .

**Word Count:** 5724 (**Total:** 26765)

**Date Submitted:** 12/22/08

* * *

**Chapter 5**** – Forming Attachments**

* * *

The village did not appear to have changed much, something for which Naruto was very glad indeed. It was disorienting enough that dead people were alive and walking again; he did not need geographical inconsistencies to add to it. At the moment he was wandering the village streets alone – if being shadowed by a bodyguard could really be considered 'alone' – and was essentially on his way to Ichiraku to acquire some lunch for himself and his father. He was taking his time because it had occurred to him that he might see other people on his way – people he knew. He would not necessarily stop to speak to them, but he might watch them to see how odd _they_ were and perhaps pick up some vital information.

Nevertheless, he did not expect to be inadvertently involved in a head-on collision, though seeing as he was looking everywhere but where he was going, it had probably been inevitable.

"I'm sorry," said a familiar voice. A voice far quieter and calmer than Naruto had heard it in a very, very long time. "I— Oh, Naruto-sama! I'm glad to see you're in good health! I hope you're healing well?"

"Yes, thank you." He straightened up, only expecting half of what he actually saw. ". . . Sasuke?"

Fortunately, the other boy mistook the question completely, apparently believing that Naruto was guessing at his name rather than questioning his existence. "Yes, Naruto-sama."

It _was_ Sasuke.

However, it was not the Sasuke Naruto knew. The one before him had his Sharingan active – though it was still mostly immature – and did not seem the least bit affected by its chakra requirements. He was dressed smartly in the uniform that was common to Konoha's military police, if the pictures Naruto had seen once had been accurate, and carried himself with the cautious confidence of actual experience rather than the oblivious, infuriating arrogance of some assumed superiority.

In other words, he looked human – like a normal ninja.

Most notably, though, he was _smiling_. Not the super smug-assed, smirky, holier-than-thou smile that after a while had made it easy – with some practice – to figure out Sasuke's mood, but a _real_ smile that actually reached his blood-colored eyes and made them not so creepy to see; though Naruto was still incredibly creeped out internally for its sheer unfamiliarity. Still, Sasuke looked much more friendly and approachable than he ever had been in Naruto's memory, and all in all he appeared to be someone who Naruto thought he would want to be good friends with under different circumstances.

Call it morbid curiosity.

Behind Sasuke was a slightly taller figure – not much so, but notably – and Naruto felt the entire left side of his face develop a nervous tic. ". . . Itachi?"

The elder brother bowed and greeted politely, "Naruto-sama."

Naruto fought a surprisingly powerful urge to recoil from him anyway. His voice was exactly the same as Naruto remembered it – smooth, soft, and extremely dangerous. Sasuke had once explained to him – after imbibing what had surely been enough sake to put even Tsunade on the floor – exactly _why_ Itachi had whacked his entire clan minus two. However, Naruto – who had been quite relieved to learn, even long after the fact, that Sasuke had never been in an real danger from his brother – was not entirely sure that particular truth would have do anything to save _him_ from undergoing the bijuu-sucking-out thing.

_But he doesn't . . . __**seem**__ psychotic . . ._

_If he grabs you,_ Kyuubi suggested, _kick him in the groin and then use your little rasengan to obliterate his head. That always works._

Itachi was also dressed in a military police uniform. He and Sasuke were probably on a patrol of some kind, the former teaching the latter how things worked both in the MP and in the village. His Sharingan was active as well – fully matured and mastered, of course, though presumably not so mastered that he also possessed the Mangekyou Sharingan – but it was as warm and open as Sasuke's.

They looked _strange_, behaving like normal people.

"Naruto-sama?"

Naruto twitched, drawn from his musing, and returned his attention to Sasuke. With an amount of class that he could not recall possessing before, though it was appropriate for the image he was going to have to maintain, he said, "I'm sorry. Since my accident I've had some memory problems and a lot of what I'm seeing seems new to me – you two are a bit different from how I remember you." He shook his head a little. Speaking of remembering, he was hungry. Exit stage right, please. "But I'm keeping you from your duties, aren't I? Please continue."

_Ooh, very nice,_ he decided. _Very polite. I'm getting good at this._

_It won't last,_ Sarcasm snorted, and for once Naruto agreed with the random interjection. _It never does._

"Are you sure, Naruto-sama?" Sasuke pressed, genuinely concerned. "If you're having trouble, we would be happy to escort you somewhere."

"I do appreciate your concern, but I have . . ." He lifted his head and shifted his eyes to the surrounding rooftops pointedly. ". . . friends. I'll be fine."

They nodded, bowed simultaneously, and went on their way. He watched a civilian woman stop them and say something that caused Sasuke to blush and Itachi to laugh good-naturedly – _actually_ laugh, in an honest and warm way – and then watched them bully a pack of civilian boys who had stolen a sobbing girl's doll. Restoring the doll to its owner rewarded them with enthusiastic hugs that they returned without hesitation.

_Human indeed,_ Kyuubi murmured distantly, apparently only interested insofar as Naruto was paying them so much attention and because the fox himself always made note of the presence of any nearby Uchiha.

Naruto headed off again, intent on his ramen, but saw another familiar face almost immediately – one far more enjoyable than the Uchiha brothers'. He could not stop himself from grinning. "Iruka-sensei!"

_There_ was someone who would never change, and indeed, the chuunin smiled warmly. "Naruto-sama."

"Eaten yet?" Naruto asked him eagerly, only vaguely registering the honorific that implied a polite reserve. "Want to? My treat!" He could, after all, have at least two bowls of ramen with Iruka and still have plenty of room left over to have a few more with his father. It would not take long, either; he just wanted to chat.

So, without waiting for an answer and not even thinking that Iruka might have somewhere to be, he all but dragged his academy teacher to Ichiraku, put in an order for them, and spent what turned out to be a three-bowl meal blabbering – and it _was_ blabbering, no matter how controlled it was – about nothing and everything all at the same time. Iruka nodded patiently every so often, made noises of interest or prompting inquiry, and slurped his noodles like he always had.

"Oh!" Naruto said after recounting his day. "I found a piece of metal in a tree by the private grounds and showed it to Dad." He lifted his right leg and reached carefully into the rolled-up hem of his pant leg, where he had always hidden anything he did not want found on him. Once upon a time he had been super careful to not let anyone see him paying special attention to those ideal hiding places, but five years later he had enough training to not be concerned that he would not know if anyone was getting too close.

He pulled out the shard of metal he had quietly swiped while the Fourth had been distracted with finding money for their ramen. He wished he could have been sure that the elder blond would have told him what it was, but he was certain the Fourth would not have – to protect Naruto or to simply keep him from learning that it was all an elaborate trap – and anyway, he needed to get out of the place on his own before he forgot that he did not belong. He ignored the flicker of pain in his heart at that thought and showed the fragment to his favorite teacher. "He thinks it could be silver."

Iruka looked at it over the noodles he was gulping. "That could be contaminated – you shouldn't hold it in your bare hands."

"I'm fine," Naruto promised. "I've already stabbed myself with it and nothing happened." He took a drink of his milk, and so missed how Iruka's eyes turned skyward in silent prayer. "So what do _you_ think it is?"

"Why are you asking me?"

"You're a teacher," Naruto pointed out. "You should be able to tell me a _little_ something, right?"

Iruka sighed and leaned in a bit to see the metal. ". . . It . . . _does_ look like silver, but it's a bit too opaque – too dull. It could be an alloy."

"An alloy?"

"Silver mixed with something less pure than it is, or something equally pure but probably not of the same color," Iruka decided. "I can't be more specific than that without doing tests on it."

Naruto sighed to himself. More tests. He supposed it was only reasonable, since metals could not exactly be identified strictly by sight.

"The Nara would surely know more," Iruka mused. "They generally study organic material, but they work with minerals, too."

The Nara.

Naruto felt a jolt of delight in his spine and forced down the gleeful grin that usually resulted from the sensation. Shikamaru would definitely help him, if only out of academic curiosity, and he would also be more likely to keep his mouth shut because it was too much effort to tell anyone about it. And if it _was_ a clue to what was going on, then Naruto would be the first to know.

Iruka looked at him shrewdly. "Give that to Yondaime-sama," he instructed. "Whoever attacked you left no clues. If that is one, it could be enough."

"Sure," Naruto fibbed easily. "I was just curious." He loved Iruka, but despite the chuunin being so much the same Naruto could not trust him, either.

He glanced at a nearby clock, then did a shocked double-take; he was more than a bit scrambled quickly to his feet, practically inhaling the last of his final bowl as he did so, and tossed the proper coinage onto the counter. Fortunately, he had thought to order for himself and his father earlier, so in his haste he was simply able to grab the insulated to-go containers and take off. "Thanks for listening, Iruka-sensei!" he called over his shoulder, then added in a loud rush, "You were a big help I gotta go bye!"

His cheeks puffed full of noodles, Iruka bemusedly watched him disappear with unexpected ease into the crowd of village shoppers – he could not recall Naruto being that skilled at hiding, though the boy had never exactly been bad at it. He must have simply been practicing since graduating from the academy.

When the spiny blond head was out of sight, Iruka noticed his personal space was being invaded but did not bother to turn. Only another ninja would dare to stand that near to him, and fewer still could get past his senses. Leaf shinobi would be the only ones who would not set off his internal alarms, and only his masked compatriots would be capable of creeping up on him. Of that bunch, fewer than six would even waste the time and energy to try, and only one of them would hover and wait to be noticed rather than attempt to startle him. He was in no danger of anything other than a tickling or a wet finger in his ear, but trying to preempt his fellow would merely amuse the other, so he remained still.

"I had no idea you and Naruto were so close," was his new companion's introductory statement.

"Neither did I," Iruka replied honestly, swallowing slowly and stirring the cooling contents of his bowl of ramen absently with his chopsticks. "This is the first time I've really seen him since he graduated . . . what was it, eighteen months ago, give or take?"

"You're telling me he just randomly chose you from a crowd of people?"

Iruka shrugged. "Apparently not, considering his behavior, but yes, essentially."

"He's been behaving oddly since he woke after his accident . . ."

Iruka looked at his companion, uneasy. Protecting the Hokage was the ultimate duty of any Leaf-nin, and if there was a chance that an enemy had been able to get that close, the suspect needed to be isolated and interrogated as soon as possible. That the suspect in question might be the Hokage's own son added a very inconvenient level of difficulty to the matter. ". . . You don't think . . ."

"Nah," was the immediate dismissive statement. "Or if so, it's a crappy job. I've spent time with the one in question and he's so paranoid one would think _we_ were the interlopers."

"It might be intentional," Iruka pointed out, "to quietly antagonize the Hokage."

". . . Conceivable, but doubtful. Still, I agree that it would be more than worth it to look into it quietly, just not necessarily jump to conclusions. And since he seems so attached to you, you can help out a little. Just be careful – I think that the Hokage has his own suspicions, but he's understandably reluctant to act on them. If he catches you heckling then I have no doubt whatsoever in my mind that he'd gut you in an instant, especially if you pressure the boy so much that he cries."

Iruka rolled his eyes. "The fact that he wasn't my teacher doesn't mean that I'm that oblivious, Kakashi. His maternity is almost as legendary as his fighting skills."

"If you knew even _half_ of it, you wouldn't say 'almost'," Kakashi chuckled darkly.

"What can I say?" Iruka shot back. "You over-dramatize so often I never know when you're being serious."

"Then trust that I'm being honest as a scout," Kakashi said with clearly false gravity, "when I say that the stories you've heard don't even scratch the surface. He acts like _he_ was the one who carried them for nine months and gave birth to them."

One of Iruka's eyebrows went up in inquiry and he helped himself to more of the ramen bought for him by a student he had barely interacted with outside of class. ". . . Are you sure he's a man?"

"If he isn't," Kakashi mused with a far too bright and pleased smile, "then he's the most masculine, flat-chested, pelvically well-endowed woman I've ever met."

Iruka looked as though he had just bitten into a particularly ripe lemon and glared around at the other. "You realize that you could have just said 'yes'?"

Kakashi's grin was sadistic. "Oh, but the faces you make are far more fun!"

Iruka's expression soured further, if it was possible, but he was smart enough not to start another battle of wits – while the number of such occurrences forced improvement, he still always lost them. "So how did he get to be Hokage if he's like that, anyway? You've never told me, and I know it's bad form."

Kakashi pretended to think about it, then questioned, "Have you ever seen a bear sow when she feels her cubs are threatened?"

Iruka had, actually, and hoped to never be anywhere near one again. ". . . Oh."

"Yeah," was Kakashi's very simple reply.

"Is that how they got him over that 'no exhibition fights' thing?"

"Bingo."

Iruka made a face. "That's cruel."

"That's exactly what Oneesama said. She called it betrayal and refused to help, but that only made it more authentic when Naruto's kidnapping was repor— Are you taking _notes_?"

Iruka snorted as he unrolled a scrap scroll and retrieved a brush. He was, in reality, making note of possible class discussion regarding how to deal with abduction. "You know that I'm a terrible brown-noser," he answered. "I need to know what not to say. Please continue."

Kakashi snorted in turn. "Well, they got someone who must have had some serious brass balls dress up like a nukenin to challenge him. The idea was that he would be so panicked and distraught that he would confront his opponent openly and not risk harming Naruto."

Iruka tilted his head acquiescently. "Sounds reasonable. Any ninja with a child is also a parent and if they have even the barest crumb of affection for the child then the parent mentality will completely take over, if only for a short period. Which is, of course, why it's so dangerous for shinobi to have children – they're exploitable." He shook his head and added 'hostages' to the open scroll. "I can understand the council's logic, though I don't agree with it in the slightest. They wanted leverage."

Kakashi smiled widely. "Except that they made a rather severe miscalculation. They expected a protective, frightened father and not a protective, furious one. They wanted him hysterical, not focused. _Fortunately_," Kakashi stressed, "the fake nukenin had thought to protect his vital areas with some light weights. If he hadn't . . . well . . ." He shrugged disinterestedly. "As it was, blood ended up covering the arena. I can't even describe what happened, it was so incredible. It's on video file, I'm sure, but I don't know where or under what label. I managed to make a copy of it before it got locked up – use it to study Sensei's style, though he's definitely not as aggressive or devious under normal circumstances. If you want to see it, come by sometime."

"I think I might," Iruka said, curiosity stirred. "What happened to the supposed nukenin?"

"Him? Oh, he nearly bought it." Kakashi snickered. "He had no idea what to do, since the original plan had been rendered obsolete instantly. Thought Sensei had lost his mind—"

Iruka drew away. "You don't have to sound so damn _cheerful_ about it."

"If you had let me finish," Kakashi chided, "you'd understand."

"Then finish."

"As I was saying," Kakashi went on, with the voice of one telling a ghost story, "the not-nukenin thought Sensei had his wires crossed and was worried that Naruto would get hurt by accident. He started a defensive retreat, ducking in to offer himself as a shield when he thought that the strikes came too close. _Then_— . . . When Naruto was in the academy, did you see him really _working_ on something? He'd drop his head and stop blinking and his pupils would dilate and his irises would turn this extremely intense shade of electric blue?"

Iruka blinked. It was a rather random question. ". . . _Yes_," he drawled cautiously.

"That's inherited," was the ominous warning. "And when it's turned on you, you feel completely cornered even in a wide-open area. Jiraiya-sama said it's like being stalked by a tiger and I have to agree."

"What relevance does that have?"

"You're so impatient!" Kakashi tsked. "The relevance is that the not-nukenin noticed that Sensei's focus was entirely on Naruto because Naruto was the wild card, not to deliberately aim a strike at him. Sensei could let his training and instinct take care of a one-armed ninja, but if Naruto flailed unexpectedly he could have been hurt. So the not-nukenin took a chance and put Naruto right in the path of attack. Sensei shifted and redirected his lunge, but it was enough of a hesitation that the not-nukenin let Naruto go and ran for it. It took a lot of ANBU to keep Sensei under control until things could be explained to him."

"Let me guess," Iruka offered dryly. "He was _thrilled_ with the council's genius."

Kakashi chortled. "Something like that. He swore that if they made him Hokage he'd force all of them to retire and replace them with 'something more human, like starving lions.'"

"And they elected him anyway?" Iruka wondered.

"Well, they couldn't deny his skill and drive," Kakashi explained. "But after announcing their choice they decided to retire on their own terms, before he took office."

"Mm. Smart. And as interesting a tale as that was, the point is . . .?"

"The _point_ is," Kakashi teased, "that there's a moral to the story, and the moral is that if you intentionally upset Naruto or Akiko or – god forbid – _both_ of them, Sensei will _come after you_ and string you from the Monument by your _small intestines_."

Iruka grimaced. "I forgot how talk of maiming entertains you. Can't be healthy."

"Probably not," Kakashi agreed, "but since I've been living on junk food and tankards of ale upon reaching adulthood, I doubt it'll take too many extra years off my life." He paused and let his eyes drift lazily over to a nearby clock. "Oops! Ha ha, late again!"

Iruka groaned softly as he tucked his brush away, then rolled up the little scroll and slipped it back into its pouch. One of the not-so-affectionately-named Lords of Procrastination had struck again – Kakashi and Obito were each terrible for deliberately forcing people of various import to wait on them to arrive at a designated location, and it was worse if someone needed to see both of them _together_.

"I have to go. _Really_ have to go," Kakashi said, as though he actually cared. "But the whole reason I came here was to tell you that we have a meeting with Sensei tomorrow morning around eight. Come in costume."

'Around eight', Iruka knew, was simply Foiling Kakashi Code for 'around ten'. Providing Kakashi with two hours of leeway – even though he did not know he was getting it – would ensure that he was actually only late by half an hour to forty-five minutes. It supplied the added benefit of keeping the jounin from backing up the entire village's administration processes too terribly by sharing his casual nature with the world.

"Tomorrow at eight, in costume." Iruka made a mental note to remind the young Hokage of his New Year's resolution to let Obito have it for starting the vile trend of outrageous tardiness and then encouraging Kakashi – best friend or not – to play along. He bent over his bowl, but only briefly. ". . . Hey . . . _Hey_ . . ."

"Bye!" Kakashi chirped, and vanished.

"You bastard!" Iruka howled after him. "How dare you tell me a story like that and then expect me to walk into his office with a straight face?!"

There was no answer – not that he expected to get one – and he finished off his lunch slowly, as there was still plenty of time to get back to the academy. He finally set the empty bowl aside, savored his free meal, and got up to leave. He took just three steps before pausing and looking back at the bowl, curious. Then, with a helpless shrug, he continued on his way. He _did_ have stray papers left floating around to grade, after all, and he had no idea where Naruto had been heading.

"I wonder how he knew that pork is my favorite . . ."

* * *

Naruto was hardly a stranger to disappointment. As a result, he at first did not register the sinking sensation in his chest when he was granted permission to enter his father's office and stepped through the door only to find the Third sitting in an armchair on the nearer side of the desk. He further failed to notice the twinge of hurt because he was too busy gawking at the only person who had ever believed in him for his entire existence, the same person who had died when he was thirteen, as he slowly crossed the room.

"Good afternoon, Naruto," the Third said with the same gentle geniality Naruto remembered. "I'm glad to hear that you're feeling well after your unfortunate encounter."

Not sure what else to feel, aside from quiet jubilation at seeing the old man alive and healthy again, Naruto felt it necessary to bow in the way he should have as a child but never bothered to. "Thank you, Sandaime-sama," he said, though it was not in response to the other's polite words.

"Naruto . . ." the Fourth began hesitantly.

Naruto turned toward him in silent inquiry and picked up on the expression of regret without further delay. The sinking sensation became an anvil in his gut. No lunchtime, then. ". . . Oh."

"I'm _sorry_," his father apologized, in such a way that Naruto could tell it happened often. "I promise I'll make it up to you."

Though he was careful to not say when that would be. Naruto sighed internally. _It doesn't matter, really,_ he consoled himself. _We live in the same house. I'll see him later._

_Don't get attached, fool,_ Kyuubi warned. _We're not staying here._

It was too late to be concerned with 'getting attached', though. When he had just turned sixteen Naruto had discovered, after surreptitiously listening to myriad crowds of girls and women gossiping around him or in passing, that there were different ways for people to fall in love and be in love. He had originally dismissed the chitchat as pedantic self-analysis, but the more he heard the more he began to wonder. He had decided to do some research on it – the existence of such books was something else he had overheard – so out of a simple academic curiosity he had taken a trip to the village library, which he had not done for ages.

The _reason_ that he had not been there for so long was because after he had carefully altered the location of every book on every shelf in the whole building back when he was ten, he had been denied entrance entirely unless he had a chaperone. It had not been a big deal initially, because Iruka had made time to fill that role so he could write his reports the few times he had bothered to or otherwise been harassed into doing them, but after he graduated Naruto had really had no need to visit. So when he _had_ found a need, he had been at something of a loss.

There had been no one he could have asked at first, because the few people who _would_ have agreed to chaperone him would also have wanted to know _why_ he wanted to go to the library when it was well-known that he was not excited about books; his opinion was that they provided handy horizontal surfaces on which to stack other more important things, such as weapons or glasses of milk, so that his unvarnished wood furniture would not get any more scratches or water rings on them than they already had. A preference for _privacy_ in that instance was why he had not merely gone to a bookstore that would tolerate him and settled himself in the 'Love and Relationships' aisle with a bag lunch, because if he had told anyone then they would have all been worried that he was feeling neglected or that he was stalking some innocent girl somewhere. It had been easier to just wait for an opportunity.

Which Sai, as socially deficient as he was, had provided quite nicely. It had not even occurred to him to ask why Naruto would want to accompany him to the library while he returned one of the human interaction books he had so unashamedly checked out, and sometimes – _only_ sometimes – Naruto wished he could be like that. They had gotten a cautious look from a new library girl, but Naruto had smiled handsomely at her and that had seemed to be enough to erase her fears. He and Sai had gone on to spend the afternoon in the library being quietly companionable, each focused on his individual goal unless Sai had felt a need to ask, since Naruto had been a convenient source of information, about some aspect of human behavior. Half the time Naruto had not known the answer himself, being a less than adequate example of proper human socialization, but he appreciated that Sai considered his knowledge to be trustworthy. So he had done his best to explain why people were so easily offended, why they said things they did not mean, or whatever else because Sai _was_ trying and he _was_ learning, just not very quickly or very well. The effort was what counted, as far as Naruto was concerned, and worth encouraging.

Plus, it was entertaining to see Sai infuriate Sakura without knowing how or why, and yet Sakura would be polite enough to give him the chances she had once refused to let Naruto have to make up for it.

In the end, Naruto had learned and understood enough to alarm himself. He would have scoffed at a lot of what he had read, except that he had thought about it and realized it was _true_, and thus the sad fact was revealed that Naruto fell in love very fast and _very_ hard. Not necessarily a _romantic_ form of love, which he was pretty sure he had never experienced, but any kind of love at all. That was how badly the village had screwed him over in his life, that he tended to grasp with all his strength at any strand of affection that drifted into his path, and that was why Mizuki had been able to pull the wool over his eyes so effortlessly. Over time, of course, he had learned to turn the trait to his benefit, but it was doubtless also still one of his greatest weaknesses even five years later.

It had certainly hurt when he had thought Sasuke was dead during their first big assignment, and then hurt worse yet to know that he had failed so many people – including himself – when he had let Sasuke cross that river and disappear into the forest for three excruciating years. He had been unable to let go of his teammate, and it had not simply been because he had made a promise to Sakura; he was attached to Sasuke – had been for most of their lives, he realized upon reflection – and had refused to allow the ties that his friend-brother had sawed at so harshly to unravel. The ribbons had been badly frayed, but Naruto had desperately woven and glued them together because the thought of them severing completely had been one of his most horrific nightmares. And though Sasuke had returned to the village the nightmare had not gone away, and Naruto doubted it ever would. Losing even _one_ of his precious people would be something he could not forgive himself for.

So Kyuubi's recommendation to avoid any attachments was rather meaningless; it would have fallen on ears that were ultimately deaf even if Naruto had tried to obey, because Naruto fell in love so, so easily. And worst of all, it made the letdowns that much more like glass shards in his hand.

"It's okay," he said finally, as he set the ramen he had been so careful with on his father's messy desk.

"No, it's _not_ okay," the Fourth chided, frustrated with himself. "I _always_ do this to you . . ."

"Not much point in spending time with me," Naruto pointed out with a graceful maturity he was definitely not feeling at that moment, "if the village falls apart around us."

His father sighed sadly and took his hands, then leaned in until their foreheads were touching. "I swear," he vowed, his gaze focused unwaveringly on Naruto, "that I will make this up to you. _Soon_. Okay?"

Naruto gave a half nod even as his heart sank, and wondered if he really would. People had let him down all his life; there was no reason he could see for a specter of his father to be any different. "'Kay."

He was given a kiss on his forehead as his father drew back. "Thanks for bringing me lunch, at any rate – it seems I won't be leaving here for a while. Which one is mine?"

Naruto shook his head. "Go ahead and have both. You might need them." _I'm not hungry anymore._

_Ha!_ Sarcasm sneered. _As if you deserve better!_

_Oh, shut __**up**__,_ he snarled.

The Fourth looked up at him, concerned. "Aren't you going to eat?"

He smiled sheepishly and rubbed the back of his head. "Well, I got there and . . . I couldn't wait." It was not exactly a lie, andthere was no need to mention Iruka. Just in case.

His father chuckled. "As long as you've had something."

Naruto nodded and pulled the change out of his pocket. "Here."

"No, you keep it. I don't deserve it."

_Dear sweet Lady,_ Kyuubi grumbled, _this man is sensitive enough to make me vomit. How could I have lost a battle to such an overemotional twit?_

Naruto rolled his eyes at both his father and his tenant. "Dad, I think you're being a little hard on yourself." He did actually believe that; the fact that he took letdowns so hard did not mean that he could not tell the difference between something intentional and something accidental.

"Not nearly as hard as I should be," was the response. "I know that material things won't make this better, but go get yourself something that I would never get you under normal circumstances anyway."

"_Dad_."

"No – you won't convince me."

Argumentative as he was, Naruto knew well when it was time to concede over the insignificant things. So he sighed, pocketed the spare money, and hugged his father's rounded shoulders, then went to the window across the room. He paused with his hands resting on the sill, though, and after a moment of hesitation he turned back to say, "You know I love you, Dad, right?"

His father looked over at him, a bit startled for some reason, then smiled warmly. "Yeah. And I love you, too, bud. Even I don't prove it very often."

Naruto snorted softly at the final comment and squeezed through the half-open window into the village. He did not know where he was going to go right then, nor did he have any idea what he was really going to do with his sudden budget surplus, but he could at least wander around the village some more.

_I __**told**__ you to not get attached,_ Kyuubi hissed. _Idiot._

_Ha ha, you grabby little brat!_ Sarcasm agreed. _Trying to pretend you have something you don't, and look at what it's gotten you!_

He did not dispute the point because he already knew the truth. Uzumaki Naruto simply fell in love much too quickly.

* * *

To be continued in . . . **Chapter 6**** – Snake Charmer**

Sarutobi had been forced to decide that the fits were not, at least, debilitating overall. Arashi had been fully aware of them, used to them, and mostly unconcerned about them. Even so, Sarutobi had not been able to rationalize risking the village's safety and quietly nixed the blond's chance to be his successor for that reason. Had Arashi been the absolute best of the candidates available then he would have gone ahead despite the quirk, but there had been one other who was comparable in all aspects, just without the little instability. Still, he had not gone further and removed Arashi from duty entirely because the then-jounin _had_ been so conscious of the problem, and there had been no sign that it could have caused the deaths of his various teammates – indeed, he had often _saved_ said teammates' lives. It was the mark of a superb shinobi, to be able to put personal pains aside for the sake of others, and it would have been grossly remiss of him to fail to acknowledge that.

* * *

**Answers To Questions You Didn't Even Know You Wanted To Ask:**

Firstly, a grateful shout-out to **TheWatcherandReader**, with whom I consult on all things Japanese, though mainly to clarify my usage of various portions of _nihongo_ (the Japanese language, for those of you who don't know). **TWaR** helpfully prevented me from making my lingual stupidity any more widely-known in this chapter and subsequently reminded me that I am probably not actually as clever as I like to imagine, though even my lack of cleverness can apparently be entertaining to some.

———

**Not the super smug-assed, smirky, holier-than-thou smile …**

In _Door Number Two_, I explained that I did not like Sasuke because while I sympathized with the crap he suffered in his very impressionable and formative years, I still considered him to be something of a self-righteous prima donna. That opinion has not changed for the better since then; it has, in fact, gotten even more dismal. **Sasuke sucks**, and if you're current on the raw manga or scanlations then you likely have an inkling as to why. With that said, I will do my best to not bash him unnecessarily because I find it difficult to write a _Naruto_ fic without him – he is a dickhead but he is nonetheless an important influence in Naruto's life and will be addressed accordingly – but I thought I should point it out in case Naruto thinks a bit harshly of him in the future.

I am similarly leery of Itachi, though right now I feel far more affection for him than I ever have for Sasuke.

———

**" … His maternity is almost as legendary as his fighting skills."**

As I said in _DNT_, I realize that I used 'maternity' in reference to a man, and I assure you that it was intentional.

———

**"Have you ever seen a bear sow when she feels her cubs are threatened?"**

I don't care **how** cute bear cubs are – **leave them the hell alone.** Female bears with cubs are more dangerous than an average territorial male bear because male bears will go around and kill cubs just so that the female bear will come into heat again. As a result, the female bears are naturally more aggressive when they have cubs, and you don't even have to be **trying** to approach her or her cubs to have her after you. And she **can** outrun you – and outclimb you, in many cases. So if you see bear cubs roaming about, even if they seem to be alone **retreat immediately**. If you're concerned for their health or safety, note their location and tell someone who has the authority and know-how to address the situation properly. Wanting to help animals is fine, but it's not worth your life.

———

**… nukenin …**

_Nukenin_ may be better known to some of you as _missing-nin_. Nukenin are shinobi who have left their village without permission, and they tend to have also generally committed some kind of serious crime in their home village and fled from the consequences. Zabuza, for example, had attempted to stage a coup against the Mizukage, and when it failed he left Kirigakure and went into hiding; he spent his days between jobs decimating assassins as they came for him. Itachi and Sasuke are also considered nukenin, as are all of Akatsuki.

The counterpoint to nukenin are _oinin_, or _hunter-nin_. Their primary job is to hunt nukenin, perform a ritual on the body that will prevent other shinobi from learning their village's special techniques, and then return to their village with proof of their kill – often the head of the nukenin so identification is simpler. Haku was impersonating an oinin in Team Seven's first encounter with him.

———

_**Dear sweet Lady,**_** Kyuubi grumbled, …**

More on the Lady as she becomes important.

———

**He would have scoffed at a lot of what he had read, except that he had thought about it and realized it was **_**true**_** …**

I am most definitely **not** trying to say that reading books which tell you who and how to love are worth believing (because I generally don't believe them myself). But there are some people who find more truth in them than others, especially when they don't know who or what to ask.

———

Okay, so, like . . . for those of you who are about to **freak out** regarding the whole 'love' thing – _**CHILL**_. First of all, this fic is **not** about to turn into some incestuous orgy-fest, so you can relax; I already covered that it wasn't a romantic type of love and I promise that it won't develop into that (I couldn't continue writing it if I did anyway because I write romance rather poorly). Second, this fic is **not** going to turn into some 'love conquers all' sapfest – that's for actual romance stories, which I am not writing here. The fact is, Naruto and Arashi both have serious issues and this is a big one for both of them; Naruto for more obvious reasons.

On a less polite note, for those about to tell me that Naruto's too stupid to care about love or know anything about it, **that's why he went to the damn library**. For those about to tell me that it's not manly for one man to admit feeling any kind of love for another man, then quite frankly all I'll bother to say is: **Grow the fuck up**. There are perfectly masculine men out there who are secure enough in that masculinity to understand and appreciate that love is more than a four-letter word and will not spontaneously render you a weeping, sun-shy pansy. Men like Hugh Jackman, as I understand it. So deal with it. If you want the _Naruto_ men to drown Konoha in ridiculously impossible amounts of testosterone, **write your own damn fic**.

——————————

It's time to play a quick game of _Draw Your Own Conclusion_! Naruto is looking for people to love. If you review, he will know you love him and be able to love you in return. Draw your own conclusion.

~RN (LS)


	6. Snake Charmer

**Author's Notes:** Holidays cheers, and all that! Because chapter six was ready so soon after chapter five, I was talked into a Special Two-Chapter Seasonal Edition sort of update for this month. You're welcome.

Okay, well, I told some of you that chapter six was going to be more fun than chapter five. And while it is, it's not entirely more fun in the way that I meant it to be. Most of what will be in chapter seven, including its title, were meant to be part of chapter six, but Arashi needs his time in the spotlight. Besides, be grateful – in this chapter I introduce a character who I didn't introduce in _Door Number Two_ until around chapter forty, and on top of it you'll get a much better grasp of him than you had in _DNT_.

**Word Count:** 5559 (**Total:** 32324)

**Date Submitted:** 12/28/08

**

* * *

**

**Chapter 6 – Snake Charmer**

* * *

As soon as Naruto was gone, Arashi's head slammed onto his desk.

_What have I done?_ Anxiety wailed. _I can't believe I said that!_

_It's no big deal,_ Arashi assured himself. _He deserved to hear it after I've spent so much of his life treating him like background scenery._

_Like hell!_ Anxiety shrieked. _I'm the kiss of death!_

_He said it first!_ Arashi argued as he began to rub at his suddenly aching chest. _I had to say __**something**__!_

_But I didn't have to say __**that**__!_ Anxiety insisted.

"That was brave," the Third noted.

With his head still planted firmly on his paperwork-covered desk, Arashi waved over at his predecessor in a vaguely dismissive admonishment. "I'm having an emotional breakdown right now – please don't talk to me and make it worse by trying to offer consolation."

"I'm sure he'll be fine," Sarutobi noted. "He's an intelligent boy."

"That's the problem," Arashi replied, voice thick with pride and terror. "He _is_ smart, so he wants to do all sorts of weird psycho shit, like leave the house."

One of the Third's grey eyebrows went up. "You seemed so pleased when he said that he wanted 'to be a shinobi like you.'"

Arashi clapped his hands against his desk so he could lift his head. "He wants to _leave the village_ and _run missions_, Hiruzen-sensei. Can you _imagine_?"

"Now and again," the Third answered calmly. Raising one's voice only made things worse.

"It's his mother's fault," Arashi revealed, in both anguished despair and paternal delight. "Red always told him to wander around and _question_ things, even when he was in diapers . . . Of course, she always watched over him, too. I mean, Hotaru's a great mom and all, but since he's not a baby anymore she lets him roam off leash _all the time_. And Akiko! I already have to have a team of ANBU watching her because she tries to sneak off when Hitomi turns her back; she's worse than her brother! What am I going to _do_ when she's old enough to know what she wants to be for the rest of her life? Which, by the way, could be very _short_ if she decides to be a ninja. Am I supposed to smile and nod and then quietly go prematurely grey and start drooling and muttering to myself while she wanders off to parts unknown and exchanges sharp, pointy objects with people who want to see her die?"

"Some would say that you already mutter to yourself." The older man did not care for the direction his successor was heading and contemplated hitting the blond to get him back to the present, but it turned out that the measure was not necessary in that instance.

"Oh, _fuck_," the younger man groaned as he sank down to the desk once more. "How can I be Hokage when I'm like this . . .?"

"Are you saying I made a mistake?" his predecessor asked.

"No," was the firm assurance. "Everybody knows I'm a good shinobi – even _I_ know I'm a good shinobi, if that makes sense. It would have been extremely painful if you hadn't considered me for this job. But _I_ am the one who made the mistake of accepting the nomination!"

Hiruzen sat back in his chair and pondered again his choice of successor. The fact was, it was not through any deception of Arashi's that he had been made Hokage while suffering from some kind of psychological issue; as his teacher and not a person who he would think needed to be protected, Jiraiya had known Arashi's mental stability the best. And indeed, when he had heard that Arashi had been nominated for the position of Yondaime Hokage, he had been quick to meet with the Third and point out an odd fact that had somehow not shown up in Arashi's psych evaluation: He was prone to nervous fits.

Not _normal_ nervous fits, either – those would have appeared on the evaluation and been easy to brush aside because they were easy to treat. Besides that, most field shinobi developed a tic or two over time anyway and it was simply a matter of making sure that it was under control. However, Arashi had always tried to hide them to avoid concerning his mother in particular, Jiraiya had reported, but every once in a while it would get to be too much somehow and the blond would succumb to a mild panic attack.

Hiruzen had decided to witness one for himself to measure how debilitating it was, but either they had not been all that common or Arashi knew how to keep them well hidden indeed. He had been half tempted to think that Jiraiya had been joking until he had spoken to Orochimaru, who had suggested something so simple he could hardly believe he had not thought of it himself. He would have to speak with Arashi about it, and decide from the young man's response what there was to think of the whole issue.

Arashi – at the time unaware he was being considered for the position of Yondaime Hokage – had initially been surprised and alarmed when Hiruzen had brought it up, but had relaxed instantly when he had discovered that the source of the information had not been his mother. He had been frank regarding the 'fits'; he had explained that he had dealt with them all of his life and that he had seen several specialists and iryounin in an effort to identify the problem. None of them could find anything, however, and he had learned to live with it.

_"When did you first notice the sensation?"_ Hiruzen had asked.

_"When I was four,"_ Arashi had answered, completely unruffled. _"My mother had just gotten me a puppy as a reward for getting good grades in preschool. We were playing on the back porch when he spotted a rabbit at the edge of the yard; he jumped off the porch to chase it and broke his one of his forelegs. He started staggering around with the thing all bent back over itself and making the most horrific noises – you know how it is – and I just started sobbing, and for a minute or so I thought my chest was going to collapse."_ He had shrugged, apparently not affected by the memory, if for no other reason than the fact that as a shinobi he had seen so much worse. _"That's the first time I remember feeling it."_

_"How often does it happen?"_

_"Irregularly. The last time was about five months ago, and the time before that was just the previous day. The time before **that** was sometime late last year. September or October."_

_"You keep track of them?"_

_"In case a pattern develops. Or I pitch over inexplicably."_

_"On paper?"_

Arashi had tilted his head and looked at Hiruzen blankly for a long moment, a rather unnervingly vacant – and almost death-like, if not for the slight squint to his eyes – expression that he had unfortunately passed to his son, then snapped his fingers in disappointment. _"I knew I was forgetting something. Thanks for reminding me, Hokage-sama. I need another little scroll for that."_

Hiruzen had been forced to decide that the fits were not, at least, debilitating overall. Arashi had been fully aware of them, used to them, and mostly unconcerned about them. Even so, Hiruzen had not been able to rationalize risking the village's safety and quietly nixed the blond's chance to be his successor for that reason. Had Arashi been the absolute best of the candidates available then he would have gone ahead despite the quirk, but there had been one other who was comparable in all aspects, just without the instability. Still, he had not gone further and removed Arashi from duty entirely because the then-jounin _had_ been so conscious of the problem, and there had been no sign that it could have caused the deaths of his various teammates – indeed, he had often _saved_ said teammates' lives. It was the mark of a superb shinobi, to be able to put personal pains aside for the sake of others, and it would have been grossly remiss of him to fail to acknowledge that, at least.

The old man gazed across what had once been his desk, his wise dark eyes watching the normally collected blond who was pressing his forehead hard against the corner of the paper-covered surface, presumably in the hopes that he could give himself a headache that would be bad enough to stop him from thinking about everything else. His hands were folded over his head as though to protect it from debris thrown by an exploding tag, but Hiruzen said nothing to either agitate or comfort.

As Jiraiya had suggested, it was best to let such bursts of disquiet wear themselves out.

Finally, Arashi sat back in his chair. He inhaled deeply and closed his ice-blue eyes as he lifted his fingers from his desk absently, held the breath for a split second, then exhaled slowly and opened his eyes. Hiruzen knew from experience that the gesture was the moment of resolution – the panic had passed and though nothing at all had been solved Arashi was once more the bright-eyed, enthusiastic, and completely capable leader Konoha needed. As though he had not just been questioning his own sanity, Arashi grabbed the bowls of ramen eagerly, but looked up at his predecessor questioningly.

"Do you mind if I eat?"

"Do you mind if I smoke?" the Third replied genially, not compromising as much as pointing out that they each had a tendency which the other accepted without question – Arashi consumed ridiculous quantities of food yet still managed to be slightly underweight anyway, and Hiruzen smoked his pipe for long enough periods of time that people worried the room he was in was on fire. But Arashi had manners and Hiruzen could appreciate that, which was why it never annoyed him when the inquiry was made at every pertinent instance.

Since the answer was obvious, the blond promptly peeled back the lid of the top bowl and smiled widely at the contents, but hesitated and peeked at his papered desktop from several angles.

"Is something the matter?" Hiruzen wondered.

Arashi tilted his head and mused, "Of all the . . ." He turned to his predecessor as he opened the slim center desk drawer in front of him. "You know, he's done all of these weird things and acted so strange ever since he woke from that coma . . . and yet he still forgot to bring me chopsticks."

It was certainly a quite common omission on Naruto's part; _so_ common of an omission, in fact, that Arashi had long ago bought a set of chopsticks that were specifically for use in the office – even though _anyone_ eating or drinking in the office was technically not allowed because of all the easily-destroyed and generally time-sensitive paperwork lying about. It was also, Hiruzen noted, an odd and extremely minor trait for a possible imposter to notice and replicate after otherwise acting out of character – not nearly enough to divert suspicion.

Not that Arashi seemed to be all that bothered by the idea, though the older man did not doubt for an instant that it had been noted and filed carefully away; the blond's lack of outward reaction to information was one of the things that made him so dangerous an adversary. He would pick up everything that he needed to know while smiling brightly at the world, and in the next moment come around and plunge a kunai into his disguised enemy.

As it was, since there was no obvious enemy available to strike down the young Hokage did nothing but retrieve the smooth painted chopsticks from the desk and close the little drawer they had been in, gave the items a cursory swipe against the breast of his coat to dislodge dust and wood bits, and dug into the first bowl with the kind of food-inspired gusto that was typically found only in the Akimichi and what was left of the Namikaze clans, but he abruptly stopped and looked at the ramen in dissatisfaction, his cheeks full and with two noodles dangling unevenly from his mouth.

Hiruzen lifted an eyebrow. "Is it poisoned?"

Arashi tilted his head back like a bird to be sure he was successful in collecting the noodles attempting a getaway, then swallowed the mass. It made visible progress down his throat, and he stretched his neck and affected a prolonged wince until it could no longer be seen. He exhaled audibly, having been forced to hold his breath for the noodles to pass, then smacked his tongue against the roof of his mouth and smiled contentedly. Only then did he appear to realize that he had been spoken to and stopped to blink at his predecessor.

"No," he answered, "it's lukewarm."

Well _that_ was certainly a tragedy for a man who had resorted to eating raw lizard eggs and fat grubs and skittering cockroaches in the past. The other of the old man's greyed eyebrows lifted as his successor began to form seals. ". . . You're not going to do that," he said, careful to not give any indication that he might be amused.

Arashi grinned mischievously. "Dare me?"

"If I did, I would let you know."

"I'll do it," the blond vowed, in a voice specific to a little boy taking a risk.

"At least make a list of the papers you're about to set aflame so you know where to get replacements from," Hiruzen suggested.

Arashi frowned contemplatively at his paper-clad desk, then smiled and set his bowls of ramen on the floor by his chair. He then stretched his arms out in front of him and across the desk before spreading them out to either side so it was effectively cleared, though it also meant that important papers were all over the floor. Hiruzen rolled his eyes as the younger man retrieved his meal and returned it to the emptied surface.

"I don't think Teuchi would appreciate his bowls being returned scorched _again_," he pointed out.

"I'll buy him new ones," Arashi replied peevishly. He whistled shrilly at the air, and a second later the two ANBU who were supposed to be guarding him discreetly appeared in the office nearby. They saluted both Hokage, the younger of which pointed at the papers scattered across the floor and ordered, "Pick those up."

Hiruzen rolled his eyes once more. Arashi may have been a genius and worthy of praise and respect, but he was also incredibly immature at times. Hotaru routinely beat him over the head with a long cardboard paper towel tube, which she kept with her for exactly that purpose. Not that it actually did him any harm, but it obviously made her feel better to have him at her mercy even if only for a short time, and Arashi was too much of a gentleman to try to fight her off in a non-emergency scenario.

The ANBU looked at one another.

"I saw that," Arashi said, his tone somehow both warning and playful.

So the glorified nannies crouched and picked up the papers and scrolls recently spread over the floor.

"That's an abuse of power," Sarutobi informed him.

"It would only be an abuse of power if I made them organize it," Arashi countered readily.

Still, when the ANBU were done he acknowledged his childishness by thanking them politely and then did one of the things that made him such a beloved leader: he spared them a few minutes of his undivided attention. His interest in their lives and general well-being – and the fact that he remembered things mentioned to him at previous intervals – erased any annoyance, particularly when one reported that his daughter was ill enough that she had spent the last night in the hospital.

"Why are you here?" Arashi asked immediately, sounding vaguely offended. "You should be at home."

"I offered to stand in," was the response. "Ken'ichi's wife went into labor yesterday afternoon."

He perked up. "Oh yeah? Well, good for him. After all the times he's told me how to raise my children, he deserves the trauma, the meddling bastard. I can't wait to see all of his supposedly proven childrearing tactics leave him flat on his face."

Both ANBU snickered softly; it seemed many people were waiting for that.

Arashi sighed. "Well, thanks for telling me. His wife has probably already broken his hand and cursed ten generations of his family, so I need to drop in on him and cackle nastily at his misfortune." He waved dismissively. "Both of you get out of my face. And _you_" – he pointed at the one whose daughter was sick – "go home and be with your baby. I think I'll be fine with just one minder for a while."

"I can't, sir," was the response. "He's on medication and needs someone to keep him awake."

"Medication?" Arashi echoed, looking at the other ANBU. "What the hell for?"

"Pain," the second ANBU explained, and promptly yawned behind his mask. "I don't actually need it, but my left humerus was broken the last time I went out and after she healed it my iryounin threatened to paralyze me from the neck down if I didn't take the stuff. It makes me sleepy and I'm on restricted duty as it is, but . . ."

"This is something useful to do. Yeah, I know how that is." It was hard to be an injured shinobi, when the one who had been hurt had to stay behind all the time and simply _wait_. Arashi sighed and glanced across the desk at his predecessor, who was himself an accomplished healer. The mischievous part of him knew that he was tickling a sleeping dragon, but danger had never stopped him before.

"Those iryounin . . . _they_ are the ones who abuse their power all the time, threatening us with paralysis and tranquilizers after we break a finger or catch a cold."

The ANBU softly muttered their agreement. One of Hiruzen's pale brows went up but he said nothing, which could have been taken several ways, unfortunately. Arashi shook his head and silently admitted defeat. "How much longer are you guys going to be on duty?"

Two heads tilted slightly before the first said, "Two hours."

"Okay then, I have an errand for you both to run in one: _Go home_."

The masked shinobi saluted again and vanished.

"They aren't going to do it," Hiruzen told him.

Arashi snorted and returned his attention to his cooled ramen. "Of course not. Even if the village wouldn't have reviled them for life if something happened to me – or you, for that matter – on their watch, they'd probably never forgive themselves." He nodded to himself and said, "'The Hokage's safety is paramount.'"

Unfortunately, the visit had not been sufficient enough to make Arashi forget his idea for reheating the ramen, which was an idea that he pursued with vigor, though he toned things down by holding the bowl in his hands and blowing the jutsu-induced fire carefully around the underside rather than dousing the whole thing in a firestorm. When he was done he gave an odd, sissy little cough and blew out a small cloud of black smoke, then waved it away and picked up his chopsticks before digging in happily.

With the first slurp he exhaled sharply and cried, "Hot!"

Hiruzen only sighed.

Arashi frowned in turn and said around his next gulp, "Okay, so? Remember that I damaged my son's self-esteem by breaking a promise _again_ for this."

The older man nearly snapped at the blatantly aggressive tone, but the blond's children were kept close to their father's heart and even an implied injury incurred sharp fury and cutting comments. He had never mentioned the tendency with any particular seriousness because Arashi was far better – or merely more careful – about hiding the emotion around strangers. "I've been informed of what happened earlier today, presumably at your order." He retrieved his pipe, tapped dried weed into the deep bowl, and lit it. "We both know that Naruto isn't fast enough to outmaneuver ANBU, even if they're surprised."

Arashi snorted and mumbled pointedly, "Who was the one to call him 'Chibi Senkou'?"

"Obito," Hiruzen answered immediately.

The younger man's brows drew together and he peered at the ceiling through them. ". . . It was, wasn't it?" He shrugged and slurped up the last of the first bowl. "Well, _somebody_ did."

"Obito is—"

"—a comedian, I know," Arashi interjected with a heavy sigh. "Except that I taught him to be a ninja." He paused, then amended, "Or _something_, at any rate. Maybe not anything requiring reliable behavior."

Hiruzen did not bother to point out that Obito was most like his teacher – absolutely serious and qualified for the job when steadfastness was needed, but irresponsible and obnoxious to the point of public outrage any other time. Kakashi was equally irresponsible but slightly more reserved, though not so much more that everyone between the ages of ten and thirty did not shy away from him if he passed too close.

"_You've_ been working with him," the blond said after a moment. "Is it really that strange?"

The veiled compliment was not missed, but it was not the issue under address. The Third explained, "In a year he has shown neither interest in nor any perceptible talent with being anything more complicated than what an average genin is required to know to graduate."

Arashi exhaled a loud not-sigh, then pulled the lid from the second bowl. He glanced down at the contents, then did a startled double-take. ". . . It's miso."

Having discussions with the blond was an exercise in mental multitasking; he could maintain at least three individual trains of thought simultaneously, without ever having to address any of them at regular intervals. Indeed, he tended to confuse those around him by making matter-of-fact statements meant to continue conversations that had begun and technically ended days earlier. "You told me you wanted shrimp."

"I just ate it," came the clarification, "which means that this would have been his."

"But?" Hiruzen prompted.

". . . He hates miso," Arashi revealed. "Or rather, he doesn't _hate_ it so much as he won't eat it unless there isn't anything else. He says it leaves a film in his mouth." It was another piece filed away for later; the blond heated the bowl as carefully as he had the first and began to eat without any further comment or even a crease in his brow. "He's not really that unmotivated, is he? He seems so gung-ho at home."

Back to the first subject. "It's difficult to interest him in anything other than reading mystery novels."

Arashi stopped eating suddenly and unintentionally let out a thin zipper-like sound, like a small frog trying to learn to croak properly. "He _reads_?"

"You thought he didn't know how?"

"Well, I know he learned or he would never have left primary school," the blond explained, "but sometimes I think so anyway. He _never_ reads at home, and when I suggest it he complains."

Hiruzen did not miss his successor's rising agitation, but had no questions as to where it could have come from. Putting aside recent changes, it was as though Naruto had a twin they had not known about. The older man voiced the idea as a sort of throwaway, and the blond's reaction was strange enough to be alarming.

". . . That's not funny," Arashi said, his voice whisper-soft and low and devoid of even the barest twinge of humor. His normally fathoms-deep gaze was suspiciously shallow, veiling something that was obviously incredibly private and not intended to be shared. "Don't even _joke_ about that."

Startled, Hiruzen noticed peripherally how his successor's left hand crept up to massage his chest absently. Still, he was not fool enough to point it out. "I apologize – I didn't realize the idea would bother you."

Arashi relaxed somewhat, but his eyes remained distinctly guarded. He returned his attention to his ramen, but not with the vigor of before. His thoughts were turned inward, leaving his unfocused eyes to stare blankly at his emptied desktop, and he idly stirred the miso ramen in front of him with his chopsticks. The pre-brooding behavior was a sign of something that would last all day, but just as Hiruzen opened his mouth to try to jostle the blond out of it, someone knocked on the door.

"Buzz the fuck off," Arashi snapped, inadvertently revealing how much the one comment had affected him. The door opened anyway, however, and the reason why became clear when the visitor peeked into the room. Arashi brightened noticeably and stood. "Ojisan . . ."

"Bad day?" Orochimaru asked calmly as he entered, being careful to shut the door fully behind himself.

Arashi blew out a breath sharply enough to cause his unkempt locks to flutter. "Bad _month_, more like." He embraced the slightly taller man briefly but warmly, then gestured to the only remaining empty chair in the office before resuming his place behind his desk. "Welcome home. Any news on the immortality front?"

Orochimaru nodded a silent greeting at his teacher, who replied in kind, then settled in with a faint sigh of exhaustion. "None. Tsunade pointed me in the direction of some texts she recalled from some of the more involved medical tomes, but all of them are vague and to test them I'd have to experiment on live humans."

"Ew," Arashi said, and crammed ramen into his mouth.

"If they were cadavers," Orochimaru went on, "I'd go ahead. It's not like it would be difficult for me to find them, and I'm sure that some would even volunteer their bodies in the event that they were killed in battle and it was possible to be revived." He shook his head. "But they would have to be _alive_ and I can't _imagine_ myself sinking to that level for something as selfish as eternal life, especially when there's every chance the person would die."

"That blows," the blond sympathized. "But keep at it – surely there's something _somewhere_ . . ."

"I've been looking for a very long time," Orochimaru sighed.

"Excavate, man," Arashi offered. "Those people are always finding billion-year-old tablets and the scrolls of extinct peoples and bones and creepy shit like that."

"Mouth," came the mild warning, and Arashi ducked apologetically. "Excavation takes money and some inkling as to what I might find and where I might find it. It's not feasible at this point."

"Then maybe you should start researching where you could find the information," the blond suggested, "as opposed to finding the information itself."

Orochimaru shrugged. "It's certainly worth a try, considering what I _haven't_ been getting otherwise." He sat back in his chair and said, "I heard about Naruto. Is he all right?"

"For a given value, yes," Arashi muttered.

Hiruzen sat back himself and puffed at his pipe, content to simply allow his student and successor to chat in the hope that the former could soothe the latter somehow. Arashi did not like to burden or concern those around him, so he was always careful to pick and choose what things he revealed to whom and when, with the clear intention to not trouble those he felt closest to. Orochimaru, however, despite being considered an uncle, had the sole privilege of being Arashi's confidant – the blond shared everything with him, as far as Hiruzen knew. _Why_ it was only Orochimaru was a mystery, though Orochimaru himself had found Arashi's precociousness fascinating and therefore supported the blond's preference for his company. Whatever it was, each took care of the other, and Arashi had Orochimaru to thank for the seat he was sitting in right at that moment.

_"Thank you . . . but I don't want it."_

There had been no words to describe Hiruzen's exasperation at that response. _"You wanted it before."_

_"__Yes, but I'm busy now. Besides, I don't remember giving anyone permission to nominate me."_

Beyond even Arashi, Orochimaru had been the ideal candidate to replace Hiruzen as Yondaime Hokage, and he had said often that he would have been pleased to have the title were it ever given to him. But when it _was_ given to him he had already begun his quest for immortality, and that had taken up most of his interest.

_"I don't have the time or energy to give such a position my full attention, which is what's necessary. Give it to someone else."_

_"There **isn't** anyone else."_

Orochimaru had slightly leaned over what had been his desk at the time and said, _". . . Looks like my oisan is capable enough."_

Hiruzen had scowled and moved the list of candidates to his other side. Technically, it was punishable by a week in prison to deliberately look at the papers on the Hokage's desk, but Orochimaru was easily one of the best shinobi in Konoha and though in one instance he had been captured and interrogated – which included torture, of course – he had never broken. Everyone learning about that had been a proud moment for him, the village, and his teacher most of all. He had asked to be shifted to permanent inactive duty a few years later, though – not that it was anything to scoff at. No one had begrudged him the 'early retirement'; indeed, everyone had been glad that he was 'finally taking it easy'. He had always been interested in immortality, but it was after his request had been approved that he went looking for it full-time. Arashi had been inconsolable when he had heard that Orochimaru planned to leave the village, but promises to write had helped. Still, because of his trustworthy track record the Third had not bothered to even scold him for the infraction.

_"He has psychological issues. I can't risk it."_

At that point, Sarutobi had been given a look which he could not decipher aside from its utter flatness, and then his student had pointed at the paper and replied, _"Just have him sign a release form."_

_". . . Excuse me?"_

_"A release form. List a few names – yourself, the oaf, Tsunade, Kakashi – of those capable of taking over in the event that Arashi has any problems. He'll sign it because he knows it's important for the safety of the village, and then you won't feel a need to regret letting him have that chair."_

It had been a sound plan, and Arashi had readily complied with the requirement before assuming control of the village. _"This is a good idea,"_ he had said as he skimmed the scroll, then signed it. _"I mean, assignments always have a hierarchy in case of a death or some other form of incapacitation, so if I had conked out on one of those it wouldn't have been that big of a deal, really. But the whole thing in the village is to maintain a balance of power, which wouldn't be possible if there wasn't someone capable enough to replace me who was available to take over in the event that I had an episode."_

_"It wasn't my idea,"_ Hiruzen had admitted. _"It was Orochimaru's."_

Arashi had only smiled and picked up his new hat, and six months later Orochimaru had been present for his 'nephew's' coronation.

"All right, all right, calm down," Orochimaru advised gently, and Hiruzen refocused on the present. Stirred once again to distress, Arashi's face was struggling to not twist up and let loose the tears that were threatening to fall. "It's natural for people to behave in different fashions around different people."

"_That_ differently?" Arashi demanded weakly.

"Sometimes," Orochimaru noted. "You, for example, tend to be known to the general public as a powerful, dangerous person. When I tell people about you, they're surprised to know that you're fun and easy to be around. It doesn't really surprise me that Naruto appears to have two separate personalities. The important part is that they _do_ have a distinct link to him, if one knows where to look. Now, Naruto is a bit serious in both cases, isn't he?"

"That doesn't explain his recent changes," Arashi said.

"I didn't say that," Orochimaru replied, with incredible patience, "but I'm not sure that his behavior now is linked to his apparently dualistic behavior for the past year, either. Nor am I at all sure that there is even anything truly wrong with him at this time. Blows to the head have been known to cause significant character changes, and it's entirely possible that you're worrying for nothing. Still, I'll have to study him. Nothing invasive, of course – seeing him in day-to-day life is what's necessary at this point."

"Could you?" Arashi asked, sounding pathetically grateful. "All of this information is . . ."

"Blindsiding you, I imagine," Orochimaru offered, and Arashi nodded. "It must be startling to discover that Naruto doesn't always act the way you thought he did, even if everything turns out to be fine."

Arashi looked miserable. ". . . You think it won't?"

"I'd like to think it will," was all that Orochimaru would say. Then, in a non sequitur that was either meant to truly distract the blond or simply to point out that it was time to change the subject to something less troubling, he asked, "By the way, what happened to your desk?"

* * *

To be continued in . . . **Chapter 7**** – Harmless Danger**

Naruto ducked into his shoulders as a small explosion shook the building. Chouji's long, light brown hair fluttered to the side away from the explosion, but he seemed otherwise unaffected by the blast. _What the fuck? Is that what you call __**safe**__, you psychotic fox?_

_Well, __**I**__ have nothing to worry about,_ was the blithe response.

* * *

**Answers To Questions You Didn't Even Know You Wanted To Ask:**

**"****He wants to **_**leave the village**_** and **_**run missions**_**, Hiruzen-sensei. … "**

For anyone not in the loop, though I'm not sure that's possible with the way Viz's _Shonen Jump_ is doing things, "Hiruzen" is the Third's given name. This isn't exactly **brand-new** information, but it's relatively recent. The first time I saw it was on Wikipedia and since I have a policy to never take that place for granted as far as truthfulness goes I just kept it in mind until I went by a fansite, which is more likely to be reliable, and saw it there. So, to clarify, the Third's full name is "Sarutobi Hiruzen". I have gone back through this chapter and changed all but one, if I recall properly, mention of 'Sarutobi' to 'Hiruzen'.

—

**" … ****I can't wait to see all of his supposedly proven childrearing tactics leave him flat on his face."**

As the saying goes, everyone can raise children – except for the people who actually have them. There was a man who wrote an article on ways to prepare for having a child (including taking goats to a store, feeding a watermelon, and putting an octopus in a bag), and he concluded the list with this: "Once you have done all of these, visit friends who have children. Explain to them what they're doing wrong and how they can improve. Enjoy it, because it's the last time you'll have all the answers."

The point is, of course, that each child is as much an individual as an adult and must be raised according to his or her abilities and personalities. Trying to cram all children under one method of parenting is akin to saying there's only one way to fish, hunt, bathe, or what have you.

—

**"****I don't actually need it, but my left humerus was broken the last time I went out … "**

The _humerus_ is the bone of your upper arm, between your elbow and shoulder. It's essentially a smaller version of the _femur_, which is the bone between your knee and hip.

—

**Arashi sighed and glanced across the desk at his predecessor, who was himself an accomplished healer.**

I'm sure I'm recalling correctly when I say that Sandaime was the one to teach Tsunade many of the techniques she knows.

—

**Arashi snorted and mumbled pointedly, "Who was the one to call him 'Chibi Senkou'?"**

Thanks to the _Hiraishin no Jutsu_ (the Flying Thunder God Technique that is very commonly confused with the Body Flicker Technique), the Fourth was feared all over the ninja world as _Konoha no Kiiroi Senkou_ – the "Yellow Flash of Konoha" or "Konoha's Yellow Flash". _Chibi Senkou_, therefore, would translate more or less as "Little Flash", and Naruto would probably resent the nickname because _chibi_ is generally not meant in a nice way, and he was always rather sensitive about his height besides.

—

**Arashi brightened noticeably and stood. "Ojisan . . ."**

Similar in spelling to _(o)jii(san)_, a grandfather, _(o)ji(san)_ is an uncle. If I remember correctly, you can use _jii(san)_ or _ji(san)_ without the preceding 'o', but it's more respectful to include it. Certainly, if you were speaking of someone else's family, you would definitely want to use it or you would likely be viewed as rude.

—

_**"**__**. . . Looks like my oisan is capable enough."**_

One's own nephew would simply be referred to as _oi_ (someone else's would be called _oigo(san)_). Because of how awkward that obviously is when translated into English, I went ahead and included 'my' for the sake of clarification and further included _-san_ as a respectful gesture. Since Orochimaru and Arashi are not literally related by blood, it's not necessarily a correct usage, but there it is anyway.

—

_**" … **__**List a few names – yourself, the oaf, Tsunade, Kakashi … "**_

'The oaf' being Jiraiya, of course. Jiraiya and Orochimaru might get along in parallelverse, but they can still get on each other's nerves.

—

It's time to play a quick game of _Draw Your Own Conclusion_! Orochimaru needs to experiment on living people for his immortality research. I promised that I would point him in the direction of non-reviewers, who – if they are not reviewing – are presumably so busy that they need help relaxing. Draw your own conclusion.

~RN (LS)


	7. Harmless Danger

**Author's Notes:** An extra-long chapter! I almost chopped the last two pages off and made them their own chapter, but I couldn't think of any pertinent stuff to add to bring it anywhere near the lengths of the other chapters, so I left them as they were. Think of it as a present for those who have reviewed! And if you have not left even one review by this point, just thank your lucky stars that there are such kind people in the world to make up for that.

**Word Count:** 7240 (**Total:** 39564)

**Date Submitted:** 1/10/08

* * *

**Chapter 7**** – Harmless Danger**

* * *

Naruto whistled a tune that just would not leave him alone as he hiked up a rather steep but thankfully mostly clear hill that lay a short distance from the village. In an open area at the top of the hill was a rather simple, totally nondescript building, something like a large shed or small barn, which he had completely forgotten about until he had asked around. He had only been to the place once or twice, after all, and had otherwise never had need to visit it. A sudden, swift twinge of death in his chest – registering as a momentary paralysis of his diaphragm and the abrupt cessation of his heartbeat, followed by an almost immediate influx of memories that both were and were not his – let him know that his plan was going off without a hitch.

Part of no one figuring out that he was trying to discover what kind of situation he was in meant that he had to do a number of things on his own, _without_ being trailed like toilet paper stuck to one's sandal. So after leaving the Fourth's office, he had meandered around Konoha until it occurred to him that he could take his find at the training grounds to one of the people best qualified to tell him what it was. He had promptly turned into a dango shop he had been passing – one which he knew had a nice big restroom to hide in – bought himself a treat, gone to the restroom, created a shadow clone of himself, and then sent it out to take his watchdogs for a walk. Ideally, it would lead them around the village for a while, then find another location where it could dispose of itself quietly and leave his guards in the dust as far as following his trail went. Which, as it happened, the clone managed beautifully.

The shadow clone itself had been difficult to make because Naruto's stamina was still almost nonexistent even after a good night's sleep, but the blessed retention of his three years of focused training to better refine and manipulate his chakra – not to mention the study at Myobokuzan – had helped him a great deal, both in forming the clone and in ignoring the painful burn that spread through his body when he made the effort. Kyuubi had informed him that he was doing himself considerable harm for no good reason but did not elaborate, so Naruto figured that he could have a soldier pill later or just make sure to eat an extra portion at supper. There had also been no other choice anyway; a standard clone would surely have been much too obvious to a pair of ANBU whose capabilities he was not the least bit familiar with. One of them could have been an Uchiha or Hyuuga, for all he knew, or there could have been one of each.

Things had worked out as planned, though, and once he had been sure that all three of them were on their stroll and out of sight, Naruto had made his way in the opposite direction. He had then promptly taken advantage of the village's apparent approval, or at least tolerance, of his presence to ask a couple of questions of the people in the neighborhood who he felt were knowledgeable – i.e., the elderly – and finally made his way to his destination: the 'laboratory' of the Nara clan. He could not hear a peep from inside, but that hardly meant anything; there were such things as soundproof building materials and silencing jutsu.

_Besides, how loud could studying plants and rocks be?_ Naruto paused as soon as the thought came to mind, half expecting a perfectly-timed explosion to make him feel stupid, but there was nothing.

_Believe me,_ Kyuubi offered, _it's __**not**__ loud. Perfectly safe._

So Naruto knocked on the plain wood door, because just walking in without permission was _begging_ to set off at least half a dozen protective trap jutsu. _And after all this time I've become a bit attached to myself the way I am. You know, with all my extremities still in place._

_You don't have all of your extremities,_ the fox snorted. _You have yet to sufficiently explain the purpose of not having at least one tail._

_That you don't believe me when I tell you,_ Naruto informed him, _doesn't make it a failure on my part._

_Of course it does. One who excels at speaking can make anyone believe anything, whether or not it's true. If you fancy yourself a future Hokage, you best learn to lie as well as you tell the truth._

_Except that I'm not lying,_ Naruto pointed out, _and that you think I am is __**your**__ problem. I can't explain to you what you'd rather be ignorant about._

From beyond the door a voice called, "A minute!" There was some shuffling and low voices, and then the door opened partway as one voice said in amusement, "I'm telling you, _don't_ do it."

The door opened the rest of the way and Naruto blinked, then grinned. He was not actually surprised to see that particular one of his many friends there, and he was glad to notice that there had been no visible change in the other boy, either. "Hey, Chouji!"

Chouji tilted his head an instant before someone else in the building cursed and shouted, "_Fire in the hole_!"

Naruto ducked into his shoulders as a small explosion shook the building. Chouji's long, light brown hair fluttered to the side away from the explosion, but he seemed otherwise unaffected by the blast. _What the fuck? Is that what you call __**safe**__, you psychotic fox?_

_Well, __**I**__ have nothing to worry about,_ was the blithe response.

The initial effects of the explosion died quickly, but it was followed by thick white smoke pouring out of the door overhead. Naruto stared up at it for a moment, then refocused on Chouji. There was more cursing from the depths of the not-shed. "What was _that_?"

"Shikamaru's looking into the properties of the alkali metals for battle purposes," Chouji explained, with an amount of understanding Naruto did not remember him having before. Not that Chouji was stupid, it was just that for the sake of ease he tended to not attempt to comprehend any more of a situation than was strictly necessary. That was why teaming him up with Shikamaru had been genius on the academy teachers' parts; Shikamaru considered everything and, rather than expecting him to make his own deductions, could tell Chouji exactly what he needed to know about his opponent or opponents to perform optimally in battle. "I mean, we already use them a little to make the exploding tags more efficient, but he wanted to refine it more. I told him that he shouldn't put such a big piece of potassium in water, because we both knew it would explode, but he wanted to see how _much_. Oh!" He took a step back and offered graciously, "Would you like to come in and have a look at what we're doing, Naruto-sama? We won't do anything dangerous while you're here."

"It's fine," Naruto promised as he stepped into the building. "Just . . . er . . . don't tell my parents."

That was certainly something he had never expected to say in his life.

Chouji closed the door behind him, and Naruto looked toward the far end of the lab. The entire area was covered with water and the centerpiece of the destruction appeared to be the jagged remains of a large glass beaker or pitcher or something. White smoke rolled from the immediate vicinity. Shikamaru, his back soaked, was getting to his feet and dusting his old grey shirt off as he rose.

Chouji made a face at the aftermath. "That was _way_ too much."

"It was an accident!" Shikamaru snapped irritably as he shucked splatters of water from the simple wooden stool he must have been sitting on up to the point at which he had abandoned it. "It fell out of the pincers when I was trying to move it!" He waved his hands. "You think I'd do this on purpose? Now I have to explain to my father why our last large beaker is in pieces _and_ why I'm going to need more potassium so soon!"

It was only then that he seemed to notice Naruto was there. He blinked at the blond, clearly surprised, and said, "Naruto-sama?" in the tone of voice one might use when bearing witness to the vision of a dead person.

Naruto found himself wondering, equally surprised, at the lackluster greeting. He wondered if he was some mythical figure who had for some reason never interacted at all with his friends. Or, at least, if they were technically not his friends, then his _peers_. He did not know what to think about that particular concept, though 'embarrassment' was the one that came to mind quickest. He wondered further if he had been neglecting them, which he – as a victim of neglect himself – found to be an immensely uncomfortable thought. Even knowing that his friends had families had not been a fact he had ever allowed to drive him from their company.

Worse still was what it must have meant about who he was as the son of the Hokage. _Exactly what kind of asshole __**am**__ I here, to be such a terrible representative of the Hokage's family that I apparently don't give a damn about those below me?_

_What are you whining about?_ Kyuubi grumped.

_**This**__!_ Naruto snapped, making wild mental gestures at his situation. _I'm the son of the Hokage for the time being, right? Then that makes me a liaison between him and people my age! Kids can't formally submit questions and stuff to him, so they're supposed to tell __**me**__ and then __**I'm**__ supposed to take the issues up the ladder!_

_You're overcomplicating things,_ was the bored response. _Again. The only true job that any child ever has is to live for long enough to breed and pass on his forebears' strength. And if he's lucky, then he'll have inherited the cleverness necessary to be able to live to breed often._

_**You're**__ oversimplifying things,_ Naruto snapped, cramming down the snickering fox's rather explicit visual of a rapidly multiplying family of rabbits. _**As usual**_. _Human communities are more complex than that in this day and age; people don't live __**just**__ to reproduce._

_And you would know, Master Pariah?_

_Obviously more than you, Master Egomania._

". . . _Naruto-sama_?"

Naruto twitched guiltily. "Hey, Shikamaru," was all he could think to say to begin making up for whatever he had failed to do before.

"We heard you had been attacked by an assassin," Chouji said as brushed the water from a nearby stool and seated himself. He opened a big bag of plain kettle-cooked chips and began eating them with his usual absentminded fervor. "Are you feeling better?"

Naruto smiled and gave him a thumbs-up. "Lots, thanks."

Shikamaru reached behind his head and checked his ponytail as though he thought it might be askew, then said, "Is there anything you need, Oujisama?"

That was even weirder than having _-sama_ tacked to his name. ". . . Uh . . . Yeah, actually." Naruto tried to put it aside as he reached into the cuff of his sleeve – a place not unlike his pant cuffs, where he tucked things to protect them from most forms of theft – and stepped forward as he drew out the fragment of possible silver alloy. "I found this thing in a tree trunk near the Hokage's training grounds. Is there any way you can do some tests on it and tell me what it is?"

Shikamaru accepted the shard and tilted it in the light. "Yes. Are you looking for anything specific?"

"I don't know anything about it," Naruto replied. "So anything that you find will be news to me. It doesn't matter how insignificant it is – I want to know."

Shikamaru drew his hand and the fragment back toward himself. He seemed intrigued enough, which was enough to reassure Naruto. "I understand. I can take a look at it tonight or tomorrow morning, since it'll be a while before I can get my hands on more potassium."

"Thanks." Naruto retreated to grab a worn-looking stool for himself and hopped up onto it. It wobbled. "So, you're working with potassium? What for? Chouji said it had something to do with exploding tags."

Shikamaru slid onto his stool and set the shard inside an empty, shallow circular dish that he placed out of the way near a microscope. If he thought Naruto's interest in the potassium was strange, he did not say so. "Well, the alkali metals are known for their varying degrees of sensitivity to moisture. We currently use small amounts of them on exploding tags. Do you remember how they work?"

He shook his head. "I don't use them often, so I forgot." Which was true in that he generally preferred to use taijutsu – it usually meant he relied less on Kyuubi's power than he would have in using ninjutsu or genjutsu. _But it was also way too complicated an idea for me to feel any need to remember stuff like that when all I had to do was go to a store and buy them._

_Knowing your calligraphy,_ Sarcasm pointed out,_ you probably would have killed yourself if you had tried to make them anyway._

_Entirely possible,_ Naruto conceded dismissively. His handwriting was atrocious on the best days, and after all the complaints he had gotten he knew it very well. But in unimportant situations it proved to be a subtle but amusing prank to force people to attempt to read it, so he had never worked all that hard to clean it up. Therefore he could certainly, at any time, have been trying to brush out some exploding tags and accidentally set one off in his own face, which kind of defeated the point if that was all he would be able to get them to do.

"Standard exploding tags are available in two formats: they have either a fire-summoning mark or a water-summoning mark on them," Shikamaru explained. "Which one a shinobi will use is based on personal preference as a rule, though genin are usually restricted to fire-summoning tags for safety since water-summoning tags are more volatile. At the same time, however, the water-summoning marks also require at least one alkali metal to be added separately, and since that can be added in the amount desired by the user they allow for a more controlled explosion and are therefore generally preferred in situations requiring not only precision, but discretion."

He paused, and Naruto nodded to show that he was on the same page.

"With water-summoning marks, once the mark is in place, a thin layer of one of the alkali metals is painted over it in an oil to protect it from moisture. When the tag is used, the water called from the mark both washes away the oil and reacts with the alkali metals. The more sensitive – or the greater the quantity of – the metal applied, the bigger the explosion. This process works with tags that explode instantly as well tags that work on a timer."

"Cool," Naruto said, and leaned forward on his perch. "So what's the problem?"

"They're dangerous in situations involving mass quantities of water," Shikamaru replied, "but in the same conditions fire-summoning marks tend to get soaked and only the most powerful ones can evaporate the water and still have enough energy to explode with force. More dedicated shinobi will often carry water-summoning tags that haven't been painted with oil and metal, and keep them in a separate container until needed. But painting them on a tag takes time. In a team that may not be a problem, but in an isolated scenario it can be life or death."

Naruto nodded again. "You think there might be some way to . . . improve that?"

Shikamaru shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe not. But nobody has bothered to look at the concept in thirty years. I thought I might give it a try."

"For sure!" Naruto agreed. "If anyone can think of something better, you can!"

Chouji beamed in response, as though the comment had been directed at him, and tipped the bag of chips up on its end to get the last few fragments.

Shikamaru blinked, clearly startled. ". . . Thanks."

The crackling of a fresh bag of chips being opened was loud, and out of a defensive reflex Naruto turned sharply toward Chouji. He was unable to comment, however, because he caught sight of the clock on the wall above the bigger boy's head. It still had water flecks that reflected the not-shed's fluorescent lights on its plastic-sheltered face, but Naruto was able to pick out the positions of its hands. He had been there for just over half an hour – _much_ longer than he had intended. His guards had surely raised an alarm by that point.

He jumped off his stool. "Crap! I have to go! Bye, guys! Thanks for your help!"

"Oujisama?" Shikamaru called after him. "A minute?"

Naruto paused, the door half open. "Yeah?"

Shikamaru reached back and picked up the tiny shard of metal. ". . . Didn't you take this to Yondaime-sama first? Did he not want to have it studied?"

Naruto scratched the back of his head. "Yeah, but . . ." He had to think fast and avoid lies, because they would only complicate things unnecessarily. ". . . Well, I wanted to know if it had anything to do with whoever attacked me, but Dad won't tell me if it does – he thinks I'll try to solve everything myself." Which he would, but he also knew he could handle it just fine.

". . . So you brought it to _me_?" Shikamaru asked, baffled. "Why?"

"Because you're smart," Naruto said, as though the answer should have been obvious. "I know you're just as good – maybe better – than the guys Dad would've had look at it."

Shikamaru blinked again, while Chouji continued to beam. ". . . Oh."

_You realize,_ Kyuubi said, _that its absence __**will**__ be noted soon, if it hasn't already. You will be the primary suspect regarding that. What will you say?_

_I could say I dropped it,_ Naruto offered, but silently acknowledged that since he was trying to keep his lies to a minimum _and_ not arouse any more suspicion than he already had, he should continue to be as cooperative with the Fourth as possible. 'Losing' a potential clue would not look good. "Hey," he called aloud, "while we're talking about it, how much of that do you actually need for studying?"

"Ideally?" Shikamaru answered. "Twice what you gave me."

Naruto winced. "Can you cut it in half? Dad would kill me if he realized I was doing this."

Shikamaru sighed, but it actually did not take long to slice the piece evenly. Naruto stuck the half-fragment in his pocket and rushed over to the door once more. "Thanks again for your help!" He took a step outside, but had to stop and turn back again when a new thought struck him. He did not suppose it really mattered, in the end, but he was curious. "Shikamaru, this isn't going to be . . . troublesome, is it?"

Shikamaru shook his head. "Of course not, Oujisama. It will actually be very simple."

Chouji poked at his friend's narrow shoulder with a salty, admonishing finger. "See? Naruto-sama hardly sees you and even _he_ can tell that you need to take a break – you work too hard."

Shikamaru rolled his eyes. "I'm _fine_, fatso."

It was apparently an old argument. Naruto, careful to hide his shock at the idea of Shikamaru 'working too hard' and Chouji not responding to being called 'fat', left them to it and slipped outside. Chouji in particular might simply have a delayed reaction, and Naruto did not want to be within the blast radius when it finally came. "Thanks again, guys!" he called back to them. "See you tomorrow afternoon, or whenever!"

He raced back in the direction of the village proper as night fell, alternating between running at top speed and hopping on one foot as he tried to scuff the freshly-cut side of the silver shard on the sole of his sandal to dirty it up and make it look less like he had done something he technically should not have. When it seemed soiled enough, though since the light was not the best there was no way to know for sure until it was in proper light, he put it back into his pocket just seconds before the western gate came into view. He knew he was in trouble when the chuunin standing guard there were shocked but relieved to see him.

_Yep,_ Sarcasm informed him, _word's out, idiot. You're five minutes from an earful._

_Oh boy,_ Naruto sighed.

_You've done worse things,_ Kyuubi pointed out. _You'll have time to think of a story._

"Musuko-sama, are you all right?" one of the guards asked as the other vanished in a thick swirl of leaves, presumably to alert the Hokage.

Since blowing past the gate would be rude at best and suspicious at worst, Naruto stopped and grinned sheepishly and let himself be scanned for injuries or traces of lingering jutsu that might have indicated he had been harmed or was an enemy attempting to enter Konoha undetected. "Sorry," he offered, "I just wanted some peace and quiet, but I fell asleep."

Two ANBU appeared inside the gate and the chuunin outside said, "Please return home promptly, Musuko-sama. Hokage-sama and Okusama are very worried."

Naruto snorted. As if he could go anywhere else with two ANBU right there.

Home was almost literally a hop, skip, and jump from the gate, and the ANBU followed him into the house as though they thought he might make a break for it if he had an inch of space to try. Shinju was waiting for him in the foyer, a fuzzy green blanket draped over her folded arms, and said softly as he slowly kicked off his sandals, "Oh, Naruto-sama, Arashi-sama has been frantic!"

He stepped onto the polished hardwood floor and let her flick the small throw over his shoulders. He was not cold at all, but appreciated the thought. "_Frantic_?" he echoed, confused. That was decidedly more ominous than 'worried'. "Why?"

"W-Well," she whispered shyly as she led him from the vestibule and down a hall to the left, "he wanted to go look for you, but . . . well . . . everyone feared that you might have been attacked again and Hotaru-sama and Kakashi-san didn't want him to be the one to find you. Just . . . Just in case . . . you know."

"_I heard that_!" the Fourth called from a nearby room, and at first Naruto did not realize it was him because his voice had risen enough octaves to crack unsteadily. Shinju winced, ducked into a side hall, and hurried away, but Naruto could not blame her for wanting to avoid trouble.

The lounge was apparently the command center of some search-and-rescue effort, Naruto decided when he stepped into the room. His parents were both there, as was Kakashi and two other shinobi of a similar age to him who Naruto did not recognize in the slightest, though one looked somewhat like Sasuke. The Third was present also, near what looked like a collapsible card table that was covered with maps, some of which were unrolled and some of which were not.

"_Maps_?" he noted aloud. "What the hell – I wasn't gone _that_ long!"

The Fourth was lying on the longer of the two couches in the room, his knees bent over one arm. He had his sandals on, probably because he had tried or intended to try to slip away, and one arm flung over his eyes while the hand attached to the other arm was spread over his chest. He moved the first to emphasize the severe frown he turned to Naruto. Calmly and in a controlled tone, he asked, "Where have you been?"

Naruto opened his mouth to respond, but closed it an instant later and regarded his father with caution. It was the voice of a man, he noted warily, who was either on the verge of absolute hysteria or prepared to kill. "I just wanted to be alone for a little while."

His father stood up so quickly Naruto had almost not been able to follow it. As the older blond crossed the room, Naruto grimaced internally. _Wrong answer, I guess._

_Probably,_ Kyuubi agreed.

_Duh,_ Sarcasm said.

"_Naruto_," Arashi said, sharply but softly and careful to enunciate each syllable of his son's name, "_where have you been_?"

Knowing little fear after living so much of his life the way he had, Naruto did not cringe from the palpable fury rolling off the taller blond despite his own lack of height. "Maybe," he offered quietly, staring unflinchingly up into so-pale blue eyes, "_you_ should ask the questions."

The eyes narrowed at the subtle challenge. A battle of wills had been sparked. "Good idea. You will answer all questions with 'yes' or 'no' unless I say otherwise, and if I do you will speak concisely. Is that clear?"

"Yes," Naruto replied. He turned toward a nearby armchair, but was caught by the elbow and twirled back with a quick wrist flick.

"I didn't say you could sit," was the soft explanation.

Naruto tensed at the control tactic that had been brought into play, but Sarcasm was quick to point out the truth with a howl. _Interrogation!_ _Activate countermeasures!_

The assessment rang true in Naruto's mind, so he set his shoulders back and hooked his index, middle, and ring fingers inside his pants pockets, then cocked his right foot back on its toes. Body language was one of _very_ few parts of his academy curriculum in which Naruto had excelled – since reading body language had been the best way to identify where and when he was and was not welcome in the village – and he made sure to take advantage of that skill whenever possible. He reminded himself firmly of the three S's of nonverbal communication – silent, soft, subdued – and made sure his posture guaranteed the Fourth the upper hand in the confrontation.

Further, from that earlier childhood experience he knew quite well that the Fourth's leaning over him was a deliberate invasion of his personal space meant to intimidate him. Therefore it was important for him to keep his body open and relaxed – crossed arms were a closed sign of defensiveness or an unwillingness to listen, and he did not want to imply that he had something he wanted to hide or that he was otherwise being rebellious. Still, he met the older blond's unblinking gaze evenly and took careful note of the watchful shallowness that saw everything and revealed nothing.

_. . . I think I've just met Yondaime Hokage-sama._

_Most likely,_ Kyuubi mused.

"Did you intentionally ditch your guard?"

"Yes."

"Explain."

It was best to keep his knowledge of the Kage Bunshin quiet, since it was generally not a technique taught to genin. So instead of admitting that he had led the ANBU on a wild goose chase from the dango shop, and because he had already revealed _why_ he had done it, he said, "The post office."

"Did you leave the village?"

Naruto hesitated. Technically, he had not. ". . . No?"

"If you're going to lie," came the warning, "be convincing."

Naruto glared. "Your question is speculative."

One sun-colored eyebrow lifted. "Clarify."

"The village has annexed the land around it. I can pass beyond the walls and still be in the village."

"Pedantry," was the dismissive response. "Did you leave the village?"

Naruto scowled, but it told him what he needed to know. "Yes."

"Did you disguise yourself to bypass the gates?"

"No."

"Explain."

"The Monument is not fenced."

It was a safe enough route for him to admit to using, no matter which route he had actually used. There were many ways to get beyond the village walls without using the gates; really, it was the border patrols that one had to watch out for – patrols Naruto had not had to deal with since he had not attempted to leave the annexes, which were technically no longer even annexes since they had been in Konoha's possession for so long. So in the sense of political boundaries and law, he had _not_ left Konoha. It did not necessarily absolve him of any accusations of being a spy or whatever was being implied by the questioning, but it helped, because to have not left the annexes meant the one he was passing information to would have been forced to get past the patrols, and if the patrols were questioned they would confirm that no one had passed into any of the annexes.

"Did you meet with anyone?"

Naruto did not blink, and his voice did not tremble. "No."

He did not like to lie, but he definitely knew how.

"What was the purpose of leaving the village?"

"To be alone."

"Explain."

"To think."

"Unacceptable. Your guards wouldn't have bothered you."

Naruto narrowed his eyes briefly. "Being watched like I'm a criminal doesn't make me feel all that alone."

Those ice-colored eyes noticed his rebellion and narrowed in turn. "Bed. _Now_. No supper. No breakfast. Your tutorship begins at the usual time and place."

When he realized he was not going to be told when or where that was, Naruto rolled his eyes and turned to leave the lounge.

"And Naruto . . ."

He stopped and turned his head to look back over his shoulder, but did not turn his body.

"The next time you need to be 'alone', you'll spend a week in solitary."

Though she managed to not make any noise to draw his attention, Naruto noticed – though he did not let his attention drift in case it was taken as a search for weak links – how his mother was struggling to control herself. She finally drew a tasseled tessen and flicked it open so she could cover the lower half of her face with it and therefore hide some of her distress. Naruto wondered vaguely if she danced, since the fan was of the maiohgi-gata. He would have to ask her when he next had the chance.

"_Naruto_."

He did not let his expression change and said as he continued on his way. "I understand, Hokage-sama."

* * *

". . . Did that accomplish anything?" Kakashi wondered, several minutes after Naruto had gone.

"Of course not!" Hotaru shouted. She snapped her fan shut as she turned to glare at Arashi, who had been standing in the same place, his back to the rest of the room. "It did _nothing_ except alienate him!"

Arashi frowned faintly and scratched his head, but not in response to Hotaru's words. His focus was clearly internal and he had not heard anything said to that point.

"He didn't seem all that worried about being confined for a week," Obito noted. He looked at the woman next to him. "Did you pick up anything?"

Rin rolled her eyes. "I'd have to touch him to 'pick up' things. But if you're asking if I noticed anything off about him, I noticed that he seems to be lifting his feet a little higher than necessary, like he's used to them being heavier. Unfortunately, that can be excused through training weights and the like."

"Or longer," Kakashi put in. "An adult disguising himself as a child – if that's what's being done – would surely lift his feet higher to avoid tripping, even though it wasn't really necessary."

"You're operating under the assumption that, if this is done by an adult, he is an amateur," Sarutobi said. As usual, he did not elaborate on the thought but allowed those present in the room to make of his words whatever they would.

"Iruka thought it might be intentional," Kakashi offered, "to confuse us."

"_Iruka_?" Obito echoed. "He has nothing to do with Naruto anymore. When did he hear about this?"

Kakashi grinned and said, "Naruto apparently grabbed him out of a crowd of total strangers and bought him ramen earlier today. Chatted at him like they'd known each other forever, as I understand it."

Arashi turned suddenly. "Iruka? Today?" Kakashi nodded and he frowned. "He never mentioned . . . All he said was that he'd already eaten . . ."

Obito leaned forward slightly so that he was not putting so much of his weight on the end table behind him. "Sensei, you don't seriously think _Iruka_ . . . I mean . . . I mean, he's an _Umino_ and they're like . . . whoa."

Arashi shook his head and flapped his right hand. "No, I don't think Iruka's a traitor. Hell, I'm still not sure _Naruto_ is doing anything wrong."

"He's acting weird to _me_," Obito offered. "I don't think he recognized Rin or me – he barely looked at us."

Rin snorted. "Well, _you_ spend your free time jumping out from behind things and scaring him to death and I have to give him a full physical examination every year, which must be very awkward for him. I'm not surprised he'd fail to look at us when he knows he's about to get yelled at. We don't exactly represent positive memories."

"Ojisan said blows to the head can alter someone's personality," Arashi said, and looked at Rin.

She nodded. "It's possible. It doesn't always happen, of course, or Obito might be a more tolerable person after all this time—"

"_Hey_!" Obito protested. "I can be tolerable when I want to be!"

Rin ignored him. "—but concussive force to the cranium has been known to cause MTBI, and the resulting contusions and inflammation can put immense pressure on the lobes or nerves and significantly change the patient's personality and behaviors."

"Does it go away?"

Rin shifted uncomfortably. "Sometimes."

Arashi closed his eyes and massaged his sinuses.

"What the hell is 'MTBI'?" Obito demanded.

"'Mild traumatic brain injury', moron," Kakashi answered quickly, before a distinctly offended Rin could demonstrate physically, and he reached over to punch his friend in the biceps.

Obito returned the punch. "How do _you_ know that?"

"It wouldn't kill you to learn a few medical jutsu, too," Kakashi replied.

"The technicalese would liquefy my brain," Obito countered. "I'm more useful like this."

"It's a sad world indeed if _you're_ useful," Rin snorted.

Arashi sighed slowly, but not at his once-students – they had always been that way. As he had learned years ago, the only way to have any kind of conversation while all three were in the same room was to talk over them. If he needed to speak to one of them or if any of them had something pertinent to say, they would answer. "I never studied the aftereffects and the doctors wouldn't tell me exactly what would happen, Rin."

Rin took a large sideways step toward her teacher and away from her old teammates, who had huddled very close together. Her caution was warranted; such gatherings tended to end in varying degrees of 'bad', both for the victims and the perpetrators. Still, while Kakashi appeared to be giving a vaguely interested Obito a crash-course in at least one healing technique, it could easily have been a cover for something else. "Well," she said thoughtfully, "I don't blame them for being a little evasive – different people react differently to concussions."

"I'd like an idea, at the very least," Arashi told her. "I'm running blind."

"All right, I can do that." Rin closed her chocolate-brown eyes and hummed softly. Arashi waited patiently, since the behavior was merely a sign that she was collecting information. She had studied hard during her teen years and knew more about human physiology than Arashi figured he could learn for himself during the course of his life. "Okay," she decided. "He had a solid grade III concussion, right?"

Arashi winced. "Please don't say 'solid'. I know it was bad."

"Sorry, Sensei." She sighed. "Look, there isn't any actual official medical treatment for concussions, okay? The brain is too delicate an organ for anyone to be playing with, and even the really bad concussions will often heal themselves if given enough time. Yes, personality and memory problems _could_ linger, but standard brain functions are generally restored otherwise. If he didn't die and has shown so much healing as to be up in just three weeks, he should recover fine as long as he doesn't hit his head again for at least the next month or so. Second-Impact Syndrome is something we should keep in mind as a possible problem."

"Should he be out of bed, then?" Arashi wondered. "Now that I think about it, three weeks . . ."

"He's doing _extremely_ well, behavior aside," Rin pointed out. "The Namikaze are known for their stamina, aren't they?"

Arashi looked at her, not flattered. "Yes. And because of that trait we're also known for overestimating our capabilities, in direct proportion with the number or severity of injuries we incur." She looked at him, unconvinced, and he leaned in and concluded, "Which is why most of us are dead."

Rin frowned. "I hate to say this, Sensei, but it's not like Naruto _does_ anything with his stamina, as a rule."

"Who knows, at this point?" Arashi challenged. "If his attitude has changed like this, maybe he'll suddenly start training hard, too. Stop trying to reassure me and just tell me what I should expect so I know what I should and shouldn't worry about."

"All right, all right – don't get excited yet. You can expect personality changes, obviously. Post-traumatic amnesia is _very_ common and it can sometimes be permanent. He could suffer convulsions, but it's not a sign he has brain damage or anything – he's more likely to develop tinnitus. Disorientation and confusion are pretty common, though he should get over those soon, so be patient if he repeats himself or has difficulty answering someone. He might just stare off into space from time to time."

"He's done that a bit," Arashi noted, sounding somewhat relieved. "It's common?"

"Yes. Similarly, he might have trouble concentrating or reaching conclusions. He could get dizzy or sick or have trouble with motor function and balance – which I suppose could explain him lifting his feet so high. He might have eye issues, too – blurry or double vision and light sensitivities. There could be changes in his sleeping patterns. Headaches are _super_ common, obviously. Does that help?"

Arashi nodded. It did not explain everything – such as his sudden skill in neutralizing veteran ANBU – but it explained virtually everything else. Not that it meant Naruto was absolved of suspicion, but it definitely did help. "It helps a lot. Thank you." He started to smile, but her expression caught his attention. "Is there something I should be particularly alarmed about that you decided to save until the last minute?"

"No. Just be patient with him. Crankiness can result from concussions, as can a tendency to cry excessively or otherwise react improperly in various everyday situations. He might also not want to do things you two used to do together for some inane reason – try not to let it hurt you. Also, common symptoms in children with concussions are lethargy, restlessness, and irritability."

"He's definitely irritable."

"No more than you've been for the past month, Sensei," Rin chided. "All you've done recently is scowl and glare at people who can't do more than they already have."

Arashi opened his mouth to counter the accusation.

"_OW_!" Kakashi cried.

"_Obito_!" Hotaru scolded, clearly worried.

"Oh, shit, are you okay?" Obito asked, equally concerned.

Rin and Arashi both turned toward the far side of the room, where Kakashi had crouched close to the floor and Obito was lowering to crouch beside him. Kakashi had both hands covering the upper portion of the right side of his face, and blood was running down it. Arashi nearly fainted when he processed the scene, but from the fear that the damage was irreparable rather the simple sight of blood.

". . . Kakashi . . .?" the Uchiha reject questioned weakly.

Two thankfully intact blue-grey eyes snapped open in fury and Kakashi freed his bloody left hand to prod his friend sharply in the chest as he snarled, "Could you _possibly_ have gotten any closer to my eye without poking it out, dumbass?"

"I'm sorry," Obito whimpered.

"_Idiots_, both of you!" Rin barked as she stomped over. "Practicing techniques on each other like that! Move your hand, Kakashi!"

"It was an _accident_," Kakashi hissed. He had always had a high threshold for it, but pain nevertheless made him especially grouchy.

"_Move your hand, Kakashi_," she ordered. "You're bleeding all over the floor as it is!"

He obeyed, and when Arashi saw the long cut beneath his youngest student's right eye he pressed the heels of both hands to his forehead to alleviate an oncoming migraine and groaned in exasperation, "Oh, dear sweet sanity . . ." Because that was _always_ how things ended up with those two – one of them got hurt. How and why they were such close friends – brothers, really – eluded him. He did not need that on top of Naruto's problems.

Rin lectured Obito, who cringed and apologized quietly whenever she took a breath, and once she was done Kakashi said, "Dad is gonna be _so_ pissed at you."

Obito wilted.

Arashi flapped one hand at them while the other covered his eyes to block the room's light. "I appreciate your support up to this point, but please leave if this is all you're going to do. Bleed each other dry in _your_ home. I'm going to bed anyway, so there's nothing interesting to stick around for."

"Take a guest room," Hotaru told him coolly.

His head pounding, Arashi was _very_ tempted to inform her that _she_ could take a guest room because he would raise his son the way that _he_ felt was best and she was _more_ than welcome to keep her mouth shut for the duration of Naruto's life. Indeed, he even began with, "You know, Hotaru, why don't you just let . . ." but silenced himself. She was worried, too, and was expressing it in the only way she could, which was by coddling Naruto and letting him get away with everything, even if that meant demonizing Arashi. His aggression sufficiently strangled, he said as he shuffled from the lounge, ". . . Forget it. Me, guest room. Good night."

"Good night, Sensei," his students chorused softly, sensitive of his obvious cranial distress.

Unfortunately, the pleasantness of their united voices was immediately followed by an audible punch to a shoulder and Obito's quiet, "Ow, dick, that hurt."

"You _owe_ me," Kakashi growled.

Rin apparently hit them both, and then snarled, "_Shut up_!"

It amazed Arashi, sometimes, how the three of them could be the chronological ages that they were and still be so psychologically immature. Not that he could imagine any of them being any other way, because he loved them the way they were. Really, he did. They were just . . . Though each of them was a distinct individual, much of the time they were far too much like _him_, and Arashi had no illusions about how others perceived him; mainly because he had already analyzed himself and knew that everything said was true at one moment or another, which was more than a little frightening when he put that same analysis to the three of them.

* * *

To be continued in . . . **Chapter 8**** – Crazy Roommates**

Whether or not the Naruto present was serious about his past, it was clear that he was massively disoriented and not capable of looking out for himself adequately. He had been in the hospital since waking and though the physical injuries that he had suffered had all healed, no doubt thanks to the kyuubi, his psychology was still under question. He could function normally aside from the inconsistencies he had so readily stated after he had awakened, and that had meant that he could not stay at the hospital, mainly because there would be no way for the blond to pay for remaining there indefinitely, but his confusion meant that he needed to be watched constantly. The debate had progressed in a fashion so predictable that Sasuke had been able to see his fate careering toward him: Naruto needed a roommate to babysit him, Naruto seemed to be most comfortable in Sasuke's presence, Sasuke had a two-bedroom apartment, and Sasuke was conveniently not splitting rent or otherwise living with anyone.

**

* * *

**

**Answers To Questions You Didn't Even Know You Wanted To Ask:**

**"****Shikamaru's looking into the properties of the alkali metals for battle purposes,"**

The alkali metals are the first column (group) of elements, not including hydrogen, on the periodic table. These metals are, in order on the periodic table: lithium (Li), sodium (Na), potassium (K), rubidium (Rb), cesium or caesium (Cs), and francium (Fr). Each of these metals is known for its sensitivity to water, and the farther down the group you go the more aggressive the reaction. However, this reaction is only the case when the elements are in their elemental state, and alkali metals generally aren't. Therefore, sticking a banana into water isn't going to get you anything but a soggy banana.

—

**" … ****I told him that he shouldn't put such a big piece of potassium in water, because we both knew it would explode … "**

My high school chemistry teacher kept a huge block of potassium in a huge jar of kerosene. This is both safe and not safe, because the kerosene – which is an oil – kept water from coming into contact with the potassium, but it was still **kerosene**. Anyway, since there were a lot of boys in my class (I'm not being sexist in this instance – it was **always** the guys who asked to see it), the easiest way to reward them for doing something was to chip off a piece of the stuff and drop it in a beaker that was half full of water. Usually, the pieces were small and they would just smoke and propel themselves around the inside of the beaker. Some would smoke, **catch fire**, and move around the beaker. Then, one time, my teacher chopped off a bigger piece then normal – about the size of a marble, if I recall – and put it in the beaker of water. The piece smoked, moved in the water, caught fire, and **exploded** all in about three seconds. Water went **everywhere**.

The guys loved it, and since there was a tall bridge and a river right behind our school, the next logical step to them was, of course, to beg to take the entire jar of potassium – which had to have been at least twenty pounds – and **dump it in the river**. I am not kidding. Then one of them got the bright idea to ask the teacher to purchase **cesium** for this purpose. The teacher refused, naturally, and while it was disappointing it was probably safer; the stuff likely would have exploded as soon as it got into open air, let alone hit the river.

—

**"****Is there anything you need, Oujisama?"**

_Oujisama_ is a term one would use when addressing a prince – or someone who acted like a prince. This is technically not an appropriate title for Shikamaru – or anyone else – to use, however, because while he's the son of a revered leader Naruto still isn't what would constitute as 'traditional' royalty.

—

**Shikamaru slid onto his stool and set the shard in an empty, shallow circular dish.**

The shallow circular dishes commonly used in the science field – and especially in the medical and biology branches, primarily for the purposes of culturing (growing) various microorganisms – are known as petri (or Petri) dishes, and they usually have a very simple, easy-to-remove lid to keep out dust and other contaminants. They were named after a German bacteriologist, and the word is pronounced 'pee-tree' (if you invent a joke for that, please share it). I don't know exactly why they're circular, except for the fact that they'd be **way** easier to keep clean without corners.

Useless Fact: _Petri_ is also the name of the pterosaur in the _The Land Before Time_ series, which the powers that be have heartlessly beaten into a blood smear (not that this is particularly surprising amongst the various media, or even unusual). The first movie was awesome, the second was good, the third was okay, and they've just milked it dry without putting it back to pasture since.

—

**"****Standard exploding tags … have either a fire-summoning mark or a water-summoning mark on them," Shikamaru explained. " … "**

Everything in those few paragraphs I made up. Theoretically, what I wrote **could** be possible for a ninja to reproduce and utilize, I suppose (because I'm, like, **totally** a chemist… ¬_¬), but I am more than sure that all of the exploding tags in _Naruto_ canon actually do have marks on them that instruct them only to catch fire or blow up when triggered and therefore don't rely on a chemical reaction to work. With that said, I wanted to give Shikamaru something interesting to do when Naruto stopped by, and that's what I came up with.

—

**"****Musuko-sama, are you all right?"**

This took me forever to find out because I was looking in the wrong places, so that's double the reason to share it. When Naruto first met Konohamaru, Ebisu referred to him as _omago-sama_. _Mago_ is "grandchild" and the _o-_ prefix and _-sama_ suffix/honorific were meant to be respectful acknowledgements of his relation to the Third Hokage, so Konohamaru was essentially being called "Honorable Grandchild" all the time (which is why he rebelled – people were only seeing _what_ he was, not _who_ he was). Unlike Konohamaru, however, Naruto isn't the only child the Fourth has at this point, so I decided to not have everyone refer to him as such; _musuko_ means "son". Those who know him better – Aya, Shinju, and the other girls – and therefore know him as his own person will still be referring to him as _Naruto-sama_.

Belated Related Thought: The colloquial translation of _omago-sama_ seems to be "young master", and that would presumably apply to Naruto as well.

—

**" … ****Hokage-sama and Okusama are very worried."**

_Oku(sama)_ is the term used when referring to someone else's wife. Hotaru is not Arashi's wife in either a religious or legal sense (I will cover this further as the fic progresses) but more his common-law wife, and a more appropriate but less polite term for her would probably be _aijin_ ("mistress"). However, at least in front of Naruto, the Fourth, and Hotaru herself, no one would dare refer to her as that.

—

**She finally drew a tessen and flicked it open … since the fan was of the maiohgi-gata.**

I did so much research on this that I think I may have gotten some things mixed up, mainly because I kept seeing very different fans classified in the same manner and there weren't enough pictures to help me figure out which was which, but I'm going to say this anyway. So you've been warned: This is probably not entirely trustworthy as fact because I have a culturally-impaired sieve for a brain, but if you want to look the information up it should give you someplace to start.

Fans were a huge **thing** back in the day in Japan; everybody had one – it was practically a fashion statement – and most samurai even learned to wield them as a self-defense weapon (_tessenjutsu_) because they were often disarmed when they entered a building, and it wasn't considered honorable to use your sword against a weaker opponent anyway. Fans, in the sense of disarmament, were overlooked for multiple reasons and thus a samurai trained in _tessenjutsu_ was always armed even if all of his blades were taken away.

A _tessen_ ("iron fan") is one of two things, either a) a small iron "club" that appears to be a closed fan but won't open, or b) a war fan that can be used both in battle and as a standard air-moving device. In the case of the latter, _tessen_ usually had outer ribs of iron for strength and inner ribs of bamboo for lighter weight; in other words, it could be swept about without worry that the ribs might break. _Maiohgi-gata_ is simply indicative of what it was used for – traditional dances and kabuki.

—

**"****He had a solid grade III concussion, right?"**

There are many measurements for the severity of concussions, but the Cantu guidelines seemed to be the easiest to understand and the most appropriate for this fic. So according to Cantu guidelines, a Grade III concussion is detailed as a loss of consciousness for longer than five minutes or amnesia lasting more than twenty-four hours.

Also, everything Rin listed – and some things she didn't – are actual symptoms of concussions. They would vary from person to person, of course, and some people would not suffer them at all. The grade of the concussion would not necessarily mean that there would be more or worse symptoms, though I myself received a mild concussion in a vehicular accident and did not experience any such symptoms. Meh, I take that back – I did have balance issues and just a _tad_ bit of trouble writing and focusing, but it was for fewer than four hours afterward.

—

**" … ****Second-Impact Syndrome is something we should keep in mind as a possible problem."**

In comedies particularly, people with amnesia often remember everything they've forgotten after receiving a second blow to the head. In fact, since the brain is already badly injured from the first hit, a second could end in a coma and then death.

—

**"****The Namikaze are known for their stamina, aren't they?" " … we're also known for overestimating our capabilities, in direct proportion with the number or severity of injuries we incur. … Which is why most of us are dead."**

I have, quite frankly, made this up. At the absolute beginning of the series, before he begins utilizing Kyuubi's chakra regularly, it's noted by several characters that Naruto has an unusually large chakra reserve, which is why he can produce so many kage bunshin at once. I don't think this trait has been clarified since then, but either way some say it's a result of Kyuubi's presence, because even though Naruto wasn't using Kyuubi's chakra and didn't even know the fox was **there** at the time, his body still had to make room for its chakra. I'm willing to accept that, but considering how much of his own chakra he's had to go through in previous instances to actually **get** to Kyuubi's, I'm more tempted to think it's something he was born with.

—

**" … ****he's more likely to develop tinnitus. … "**

_Tinnitus_ is when your ears ring.

—

It's time to play a quick game of _Draw Your Own Conclusion_! Shikamaru needs moving targets to test his new exploding tags on. If you review, you won't be moving. Draw your own conclusion.

~RN (LS)


	8. Crazy Roommates

**Author's Notes:** Unless you are up-to-date on the manga, there will be a _**CANON SPOILER**_ present in this chapter, which I already hinted at in chapter seven (and for the sake of concision will be removing to include in a later chapter, so by the time you read this it may not be there any longer, but that's neither here nor there). However, I am leaving the spoiler as is because if you don't already know about it, you'll likely assume it's something I'm doing for the sake of drama.

**Word Count:** 5292 (**Total:** 44856)

**Date Submitted:** 1/31/09

* * *

**Chapter 8**** – Crazy Roommates**

* * *

He was never going to get used to that.

"Uchiha-san."

Sasuke cringed slightly, but quickly brought the reflexive motion under control. "What, Naruto?"

There was a pause – a distinctly _annoyed_ pause, really – but the Uchiha heir was _not_ going to start calling his friend 'Naruto-sama' before the blond earned every last letter, and maybe not even then. Besides, it seemed that the Naruto behind him was not his friend anyway and therefore he owed the presumptuous brat less than nothing. And while he had been tempted to demand that he be referred to strictly as 'Sasuke', since 'Uchiha-san' brought up all sorts of memories that he would rather not have running about in his head, at the same time he did not want to even _think_ he might confuse one blond for the other. So 'Uchiha-san' would be staying unless he could convince himself to let his new roommate call him 'Sasuke-san'.

His_ roommate_.

Unfortunately, he could not argue with the logic.

Whether or not the Naruto present was serious about his past, it was clear that he was massively disoriented and not capable of looking out for himself adequately. He had been in the hospital since waking and though the physical injuries that he had suffered had all healed, no doubt thanks to the kyuubi, his psychology was still under question. He could function normally aside from the inconsistencies he had so readily stated after he had awakened, and that had meant that he could not stay at the hospital, mainly because there would be no way for the blond to pay for remaining there indefinitely, but his confusion meant that he needed to be watched constantly. The debate had progressed in a fashion so predictable that Sasuke had been able to see his fate careering toward him: Naruto needed a roommate to babysit him, Naruto seemed to be most comfortable in Sasuke's presence, Sasuke had a two-bedroom apartment, and Sasuke was conveniently not splitting rent or otherwise living with anyone.

Actually – and very oddly – Naruto was most comfortable around _Hinata_, of all people, but her tendency to swoon in his presence made her an unsuitable guard dog. He was also strangely comfortable around Kakashi, but the jounin was legitimately busy with assignments since he no longer had the official genin team required to cover up for the more than one hundred hours of daylight he wasted in being hideously late to _everything_; not that he had started to be on time simply because of that, though. Sasuke, comparatively, was still in Big Trouble – though no one had ever explained what the Big Trouble _was_ – for leaving Konoha and was for the time being not allowed to perform any assignment that let him do so; babysitting Naruto conveniently fell under the D-rank class of mission – possibly C-class, considering the kyuubi's presence – but at least Tsunade had promised that he would be getting paid for every minute of his suffering, and he further intended to get an appreciation bonus from his ex-best friend after he beat the blond ingrate to death for putting him in the position of Official Asswiper.

"When this is all over," he hissed softly, "I am going to _kill_ that idiot."

"Excuse me?" Naruto demanded, suspicious.

"Nothing," Sasuke snarled. "What do you want?"

"I'm hungry."

The prodigy turned to him sharply and stared. "What the hell am I supposed to do about it?"

"Make me something."

Make him something.

_Make him something_, like the Uchiha was a . . . a _servant_.

Sasuke desperately struggled to not reach out and punch the blond. On the other hand, he was not known all that well for his self-control, and for good reason.

"_Ow_! What was that for, Uchiha?"

"Make your own breakfast, usurabaka!"

Naruto glared, and Sasuke ignored how he was leaning into the kitchen as though there was a line his feet were not allowed to cross. The blond was _always_ leaning, because if he stood straight he staggered like he was either drunk or had his ears recently blown out. He was always hitting things whenever he gestured, too – which, since it was Naruto, was often – and the one attempt that he had made to kick Sasuke, for a verbal infraction that was so common to the Uchiha heir's normal exchanges he could no longer recall it specifically, had put the blond back in a hospital examination room to make sure he had not given himself brain damage. Though as far as Sasuke could tell there was hardly any brain available _to_ damage. Sakura had eventually been able to explain that Naruto was not used to his height and the change in perspective had affected his balance, and Sasuke supposed that was a true enough statement if the idiot thought he was only twelve years old.

"I can't make myself anything to eat!" the blond shouted, and his embarrassment was understandable when he admitted, "I don't know how!"

Sasuke's stare became bewildered. It had been an incredible shock to learn that Naruto, even at twelve, was a rather decent cook. Hardly perfect, of course, because there had been times where he had somehow managed to completely forget that he was cooking in the first place and thus scorched a meal every now and then, but he was a good enough cook overall that no one had gotten food poisoning when it was his turn for the duty – though Sasuke had worried, and so had Sakura and Kakashi if their hesitations that first time had meant anything. But as it turned out Naruto had been cooking for himself for most of his life; it had simply been far easier, cheaper, less lonely, and less of a fight with store owners to boil up some water and hydrate a cup of noodles.

The Naruto before him, however, apparently did not share that skill, and Sasuke found it annoyingly typical that the blond would make nothing easy. "_Why_?" he wondered.

"Because back when I was really little Mom and Dad would take turns cooking and now Aya cooks all the meals!" Naruto answered with a defensive huff.

Mom and Dad.

_Mom_ and _Dad_.

He was never going to get used to that, either.

In hindsight, that was the main reason Sasuke had never bothered to wonder about the blond's parents. He could count on one hand the number of times Naruto had mentioned _anything_ involving his parents, and all but one of those instances had been long before he had graduated from the academy. Oh, sure, he could talk forever about someone _else's_ parents and never suffer so much as a twitch. His own, however . . . Discussing them – especially in his presence, as it turned out – was quite verboten. That mistake had only been made once at a small celebration Sasuke could no longer recall the purpose of and had surely been forced to attend. Team Gai and the old Rookie Nine had all been there, though, and sake had been available. Sakura had not really been particularly drunk but she had definitely been uninhibited, therefore her usual tact had died a swift and merciful death and she had been able to innocently wonder aloud what Naruto's parents had looked like.

From the way Naruto had reacted, one might have thought she had called them pigs. He had stood up very abruptly and left the restaurant they had been in. That was how Sasuke – and Sakura, who had sobered instantly but far too late – knew how much of an impact the question had wielded. Generally, if a comment hurt Naruto he would laugh it off, wait a few minutes so no one would make an association between it and his departure, then gracefully excuse himself to go to the restroom. Or home, if it affected him that much. For him to have revealed the extent of its injury against him that promptly, there was no doubting that the subject was too sensitive for Naruto to control his reaction to mentions of it.

Sasuke had been the one to follow after him, being the only one who had any idea what he was feeling – the others all had close family still – and the only one who could keep up with him if he needed to vent. The Uchiha heir had spared Sakura a few pats on the head, since she had obviously not meant the question maliciously at all, but not stopped to offer any words. She would apologize later, he knew. Naruto had not appreciated his presence, the sharp blue glare had informed him when he had caught up to the blond, but Sasuke did not care what Naruto wanted so he had stayed right where he was and his friend had finally given up and glowered at the street instead.

_"Fuck off, Uchiha."_

_"You'd like that, wouldn't you?"_ Sasuke had demanded waspishly. _"You'd like to think you were the only one with that kind of pain."_

Naruto had crammed his hands in his pockets irritably. _"What, you mean like __**you**__ do?"_

_"It was just a question, usurabaka – she didn't mean anything by it. You overreacted. **Again**."_

_"If I had hit her or yelled, **that** would have been overreacting."_

_"What was so terrible about it?"_

Naruto had shaken his head and said coolly, _"Whether you noticed or care, bakuchiku, people feel bad for you for your parents' deaths. That doesn't mean they've felt the same toward me."_

_"So what if they didn't care about your parents?"_ Sasuke had wondered, unimpressed.

___"_They _**did**__ care,"_ Naruto had corrected bitterly. _"That's the whole problem."_

Sasuke had not responded to the statement. At that point, Naruto either would or would not have told him, and prompting would not have revealed the facts any quicker.

_"I gave up wanting to know about my parents when I was eight,"_ Naruto had said after several minutes, in a way that meant he was not going to explain what the villagers had said about his parents. Not that Sasuke could not have guessed. _"Nowadays, I don't __**want**__ to know whether they actually hated me or loved me, because neither means anything when they're never here to express those feelings. I don't care about their names, what they looked like, or whether they were ninja or not. I don't even want to know if they're both alive or dead. I'm seventeen years old – it doesn't __**matter**__."_

_"Then why did you get so pissy about the question?"_

_"Why bother to speculate when it **doesn't** matter?"_ was all the blond had offered in response.

The truth was, it _did_ matter to Naruto. And the even greater truth was that it mattered because Naruto was still just a child, really; while Naruto _had_ grown up, at the same time he had not grown at all. His outer growth was nothing but a clever mask for the inner growth that came to him in fits and starts. Physically and psychologically, the traits that were so needed for outward strength and future survival, Naruto was in fine shape and had been for most of his life – his own stubbornness and the village's collective dismissal of his existence had ensured that early on. But emotionally, he was still fewer than ten years old. In some cases it was his sheer immature bluntness that won over others by shaking them from their carefully-constructed towers of ivory with naked facts, but that was not always true and in _those_ instances he had not often come away unscathed.

That was doubtless why Naruto still cared so much about his parents, whether or not he realized it. Even at seventeen, with the emotional maturity of a child of single digits he needed their guidance and instinctively sought for them, but his older-than-seventeen psyche reminded him coolly of the hard fact that he was an orphan and that the closest thing he had to a parent was an academy teacher who was barely twice his age and had been orphaned as well. The conflict was doubtless a very confusing one and so he did the logical thing, which was to put it aside as long as it was not a life-threatening issue.

"Uchiha-san, are you going to make me something to eat?"

Sasuke glared in response, and the peaceful and forgiving thoughts that had managed to sneak up on him were slaughtered mercilessly and with great relish. "Hell no."

"But I'm hungry!"

"Then starve!"

That pout.

That stupid, stupid _pout_.

". . . What kind of ninja are you if you can't cook for yourself?" Sasuke snapped. He was not unreasonable, though, which could have been argued was because he did not want his apartment destroyed by either of them, and _especially_ not himself. "I'm going to sit at this table and eat, so you can make yourself something and if you have questions then you can ask."

In the end, Sasuke just cooked the idiot's breakfast for him so he would not set the apartment afire; it had only been an egg and cheese and sausage sandwich anyway. Still, he insisted that Naruto stay there and watch him while he explained what he was doing step by step, and the blond at least _seemed_ to understand. Not that _appearing_ to comprehend it actually meant he _did_, though Naruto was usually good about admitting when he was too much of an idiot to grasp something. And, blessedly, there would have been a convenient frying pan available had Sasuke needed it to relieve stress.

It could have been worse.

"What are we doing today, Uchiha-san?"

"For the time being," Sasuke replied mildly as he scanned the morning paper, "_I_ am making sure you don't die. As long as there is no conflict with that, _you_ may do more or less whatever you like."

"I'd like to see my parents."

Sasuke lifted his eyes from the paper and gazed back into the strange purple ones he was still not used to seeing. So far, no one had been able to figure out a _nice_ way – as if there was such a thing, he knew from experience – to tell the blond that his parents were dead or worse, that if they were still alive they weren't admitting the relation. Though if Kakashi was to be believed and the Fourth really was Naruto's father, it was safe to assume that there was no chance option two had occurred. Nevertheless, Sasuke would have simply told the blond what they knew for sure outright, preferring himself to have all of the pertinent information given to him as requested, except that Sakura had threatened rather aggressively and with a graphic demonstration that she would twist his head off if he happened to 'traumatize' her patient. And while he suspected that she would not dare hurt him, if she _would_ dare he did not want to find out if she could also outrun him.

"That's impossible," he said finally, deciding on a diversion.

"Why?"

"They're not here."

It was true enough.

"Then can I at least see my mother?"

Sasuke rolled his eyes. "Didn't I just tell you _no_?"

"You said I couldn't see my parents," Naruto answered haughtily, and promptly ruined his stern image by accidentally banging his glass of milk against his teeth, "not my mother."

Sasuke was more than half tempted to tell the blond he needed a vocabulary lesson if he did not know the proper definition of 'parents', but reminded himself that he would never be paid if he killed the centerpiece of his assignment and so asked obligingly, "Where _is_ your mother, then?"

Naruto was glaring down at his own arm, probably for being too long, even as he answered calmly, "Out behind field five."

Sasuke tried to remember what was there, opened his mouth, closed it, then said, "Fine, if it'll shut you up."

When they had left the hospital, Sasuke and Naruto had initially attempted to reach the former's apartment the same way most of Konoha's ninja got around – by roof. Sasuke had taken the lead once they had gotten outside, but he should have considered the spectacular failure of Naruto's disciplinary-kick-gone-wrong when they had still been in the building. Naruto himself, however, had not displayed or vocalized any reservations about the idea, and not even Sakura – who had insisted on tagging along – had brought it up. The blond's very first leap caused him to completely overshoot the building he had intended to land on, and he had been so startled by what he had done that he had not controlled his fall and almost given himself the head injury his unsuccessful kick had failed to.

The shocking event had made Sakura insist that from then on Naruto _walk_ to every destination until he was able to control his body properly, and that meant that Sasuke had to walk as well. Not that it mattered all that much, though roof traffic was generally lighter – or at least easier to navigate – than street traffic, but people still stared at him whenever he passed by, only less because he was The Last Uchiha and more because he was The Traitor, The Deserter, and The One Whom Naruto Saved From His Own Stupidity. Kakashi was the one person in the village brave enough and who gave enough of a damn about him to call him that last one to his face, however, and he had obviously still not forgiven Sasuke completely for that whole Valley of the End bit even if Naruto had. Sasuke did not care what others thought of him, of course, but it _was_ annoying to be stared at like he might randomly kick kittens every time he took a step out of his apartment.

Once the two teens finished their breakfast they took their time getting dressed to go out, primarily because Naruto spent a ridiculous amount _of_ that time complaining that he had forgotten to get more underwear when they had stopped by his apartment for clothes, so he would be wearing _dirty_ underwear when he went to see his mother, and why had he been living in an apartment anyway when he should have been in the manor above the Monument, and so on until Sasuke told him – in the same short, frank manner as usual – to shut the hell up and just put his clothes on and they would fix the problem later. Since neither of them had anything substantial to do until the blond gave an indication of whether he was playing around or serious – and if it was the former he was going to be beaten up by roughly four dozen people and then given so many back-to-back assignments he would forget that he thought he was a genius – they had all the time in the world to get him more underwear.

They did make a brief stop in at Naruto's apartment so the blond could change his boxers – Sasuke could understand wanting to at least wear clean clothes when visiting one's loved ones, alive or dead – but the moron even complained about that, whining about having to put his pants on and then take them off ten minutes later and change his boxers and then put his pants _back_ on and why the hell were his legs so damn long and—

"If dealing with your pants was that much of a problem you could have walked naked from my apartment to yours, you know," Sasuke offered. He had no need or preference to witness such a scene – and people had stared more than usual as it was merely because Uchiha Sasuke, the Traitor, was walking around with Uzumaki Naruto, the Leaning Lush – but it had the desired effect of silencing the blond and the bonus of earning a rather attractive shade of red on that usually obnoxious face. Unfortunately, the pleasant glow of his absolute victory did not last long, and a few too-short minutes later Sasuke found himself looking from a fistful of boxers to the blond who was holding them out to him. ". . . And that means . . .?"

"Carry them!" Naruto commanded imperiously.

Sasuke blinked, incredulous. "_What_?"

"_Carry them_," Naruto repeated, and shook the repulsively colorful articles for emphasis. "Put them in your pockets or something."

The Uchiha heir scowled violently in answer. He was getting tired of being viewed as a retainer _really_ fast. "I'm not your packhorse, dobe. And even if I was I would _not_ carry _your_ underwear in my pockets even if they _are_ clean. Put them in your own damn pockets."

"I'm going to see my mother, genius," Naruto replied, sounding normal for the first time in a month. "I'm trying to pay my respects, not have her laugh at me."

"Tough," Sasuke countered. "Either use your own stupid pockets or leave them here and we'll come back for them after we're done."

Naruto frowned at him like _he_ was the problem, then wandered from the bedroom, through the main room, and into the kitchen. He rustled around there for a minute and made a noise of triumph before waving a plastic take-out bag at him. "Uchiha-san, will you carry them if I put them in here?"

Sasuke glared, but it was obvious that it was something the blond was not going to let go and he had some old clan scrolls he wanted to study anyway. And, he reminded himself again, it would not do to kill his mission. ". . . Put that in another bag and tie it at the top so no one can see inside, and if you breathe a _word_ about it to anyone I will fold you up like a pretzel and leave you in a dumpster."

That was why, fifteen minutes later, Uchiha Sasuke could be spotted trailing a bouncing, leaning Uzumaki Naruto through the streets of Konoha with a bulging white plastic bag that read 'Thank You Thank You Thank You' dangling from his left wrist. Sasuke caught sight of the bright red lettering in his periphery and rolled his eyes for the umpteenth time, fully intending to make sure that the blond said that very thing when it was all over.

"What are you doing _now_, usurabaka?" Sasuke sighed, exasperated, when Naruto made a sudden turn into Amaimono, the dango shop. They were taking what seemed to be the longest possible route to get to training field five and had already stopped at Ichiraku for four bowls of four flavors of ramen, which the blond had insisted on but not explained.

Naruto said nothing until they were seated and he had consumed three of six sticks of the sweet dumplings; the mere idea of eating so many made Sasuke ill. "Mom would be furious with me if I went to see her and couldn't update her on the quality of the ramen and dango nowadays, 'specially since they're her favorite shops."

Sasuke did not bother to point out how little sense it actually made to 'update' a dead person – people did their mourning and honoring in different ways.

They were on their way a short time later, and Sasuke was relieved when Naruto made straight for training field five. Not that they were the first ones there.

"Oniisan," Naruto greeted cordially when they arrived at the cenotaph and found Kakashi standing in front of it already.

He had always spent a lot of time doing that, Team Seven had learned through very careful spy attempts that had probably not been nearly as covert as they had imagined, though Kakashi had never mentioned it. It was a large portion of the explanation as to why he had almost always been late meeting with them – he had left to meet with them on time, stopped to pay his respects to his ghosts, and ended up getting lost in his memories for hours on end. Really, it was essentially standard operating procedure for _all_ shinobi to do such a thing a few times a year, but Kakashi seemed to feel particularly guilty for being the one who lived. Team Seven had deliberated and decided to never ask about it outright, both because it did not really matter and because they knew that Kakashi would tell them when he was ready. Which they readily admitted could easily end up being 'never', but that was simply the hazard of associating with the tight-lipped Copy Ninja.

"Naruto," Kakashi returned quietly. He glanced back at Sasuke, who was keeping a polite distance since _he_ had no business there, and they nodded at each other in silent acknowledgement before the former refocused on the blond. Sasuke knew the jounin thought, like everyone else did, that Naruto's sudden address of him was strange, but he was not questioning it or apparently even privately wondering about it – it was just something he was accepting as though he had expected to hear it one day. "It's a bit late to start training for today. Didn't you sleep well?"

"I've slept worse, but you know I prefer my own bed." Which was also odd, because Naruto was known for begin able to sleep anywhere under literally _any_ conditions – it was one of the few academy sub-courses in which he had excelled, though he had negated much of the instructors' approval because he failed to be able to consistently sleep lightly. Naruto frowned and scratched his head. "I was kind of expecting to hear Dad singing, too; it drives me crazy, but it does wake me up on time. He must be out of the village?"

"He is," Kakashi said, voice so carefully flat that the reference to the Fourth had to have hurt in some way, and Sasuke supposed that _any_ dead Hokage being 'out of the village' was not exactly a lie. Really, they all needed to be careful to _not_ explicitly lie; because when Naruto found out the truth – and the nosy pest _would_ – it would be bad enough that they had omitted and twisted so much to suit their needs. Sasuke hated it, because he knew that Naruto would not feel any gratitude at all, and rightfully so, for the effort. It was a complete waste of time and energy, but Sakura had insisted. "So what are you doing here?"

"I'm here to visit my mother," Naruto answered, and he sounded like he was at peace with the knowledge that she was dead, however he had learned about it. "Why are _you_ here?"

"Oh." Kakashi's visible eye curved up in a fake smile. "I'm just visiting a few friends."

Naruto's brows drew together at that, as though he did not know who Kakashi would need to mourn, and he looked at the cenotaph. ". . . There are a lot more names here than I remember."

He moved closer to the black stone and trailed his fingers over the engraved characters, but after a moment he paused at one name and frowned, then moved to another nearby, then another and another, and his expression of confusion became noticeably more alarmed as he touched seemingly random names that Sasuke was too far away to be able to read. But Kakashi was watching Naruto closely, as though he expected the blond to burst into a hysterical frenzy of kicking and screaming.

Naruto finally looked up at Kakashi and then back at Sasuke, showing a very real fear of his surroundings for the first time since he had awakened. "You told me I wasn't unconscious for that long and there's no sign of any attack, nor could so many assignments have gone that wrong at the same time, so how can all these people I know possibly be dead?" he demanded in a trembling voice. "And if the Fourth Hokage is dead, too, then why is someone else's name here? _What is this place_?"

Had it been in Sasuke's nature, he might have cursed and hit himself for taking Naruto to a location where the blond could find out far more than he would have had he looked at a standard newspaper, and in a far more blunt fashion than he would have had he looked at a standard tabloid.

Kakashi extended one hand in a staying gesture. "Narut—!" He seized the panicking blond and wrestled him to the ground, at which point Naruto began to writhe and howl like one possessed. "Naruto, _listen to me_!"

"_NO_!" Naruto shrieked. "_Damn it_, I'm so stupid – this is a trick! Genjutsu!"

Sasuke scrambled to help and grabbed Naruto's shoulders just as the blond got the long fingers of one hand hooked in Kakashi's mask. Between Sasuke's forceful restraint and Naruto's death grip, the stretchy fabric peeled off their field instructor's face like wax paper. Sasuke glanced up to be sure that the jounin had not been scratched too badly but did not stare; as usual, the situation was pressing and therefore the hen's-tooth rarity of the unmasking could not be properly taken advantage of. Naruto was still struggling, and in a burst of power that must have been supported by the kyuubi he broke Sasuke's concentration just enough to yank off Kakashi's headband. The blond stared in horror at the jounin's closed left eye.

"_Who are you_?" Naruto cried, but he was not doing so the way Sasuke was used to hearing him – angry at being fooled. He was, in fact, quite the opposite; he was absolutely pants-wetting terrified. "What happened to your face? Where's the _real_ Kakashi? Where's Obito? There's no way he's dead – he's too good a ninja! You must be hiding him somewhere!"

Sasuke scowled and slammed the blond's shoulders to the earth for the seventh time. "Shut _up_, usurabaka! _Think_! Why would anyone bother to make a genjutsu like this?"

Naruto ignored him, his focus instead on Kakashi. "If you have nothing to hide – if it's something you got in training – open your eye!"

"It's not something I got in training," Kakashi said very, very softly, "but if I _do_ show you, will you shut up and sit still and listen to me? Will you listen – _really_ listen – when I tell you the _truth_ about this? Will you listen and _not_ blindly accuse me of lying?"

Naruto stilled and blinked up at him. After a long stare down, he said honestly, ". . . I don't know."

Kakashi frowned, but sat back on his heels and released his grasp on the blond. Sasuke did the same, but hovered close at Naruto's back in case there was another attempt at escape. Kakashi finally opened his left eye and Naruto recoiled from him in shock.

"Wh . . . Wha . . .? . . . Is that . . . even possible?"

"Apparently," Kakashi replied, his voice hollow with pain. "Obito is dead, Naruto. So are Rin, Sandaime, Jiraiya-sama, and Sensei." He shook his head. "I don't know where you came from – or where you _think_ you came from – but whatever perfect life you were enjoying . . . it isn't here."

Naruto gazed up at the jounin, down at himself, then back at Sasuke. He turned to Kakashi again, face hard, and said, "Tell me."

Maybe he would believe them when they told him that he was an orphan and people hated him because of the fox his loving father had sealed into him, or maybe he would think that it was a lie and that he could walk home and his parents would be waiting for him. Not that the austerity of the reality would be any comfort, even if he believed them. Either way, it seemed Sasuke was going to find out if Sakura would really attempt to twist his head off for traumatizing the blond after all, but he intended to give her an earful before his windpipe got too misshapen to allow air through. And he further intended to be sure that everything he said would echo inside her meddling, know-it-all skull until the day she _died_.

* * *

To be continued in . . . **Chapter 9**** – Ten Bricks**

Naruto made a noise of disagreement and sat up. He gazed at the solemn beige blanket that had pooled in his lap and squeezed the fluffy down inside; he had never had a blanket like that before – it was way too expensive. _That's if he even __**is**__ the Hokage. We still have no idea where we are, remember?_

Kyuubi did not answer, but his silence was strangely thoughtful – Naruto would have called it hesitant had he not already known that the giant fox always spoke his mind.

* * *

**Answers To Questions You Didn't Even Know You Wanted To Ask:**

As I have shared many times, I dislike Sasuke with great violent rages and a terrible gnashing of teeth. However, in the time between his joining Team Seven and his lapse of sanity when he decides to get palsy-walsy with Snakeface and the Sound Four (wouldn't that be a good name for a band?), I also think he would have an incredibly dry wit and a vastly entertaining, if slightly morbid, perspective on the events and interactions that occur around him. I **also** think that **he** must think a lot – even if it's only about killing Itachi – because rarely is a person not talking **or** thinking, therefore Sasuke's tendency to not talk tells me that he reacts to things like anyone else, he just has a very fine Uchiha filter which he uses to control himself (whereas Naruto, by contrast, tends to say things the instant he thinks them, which isn't always good). Hence the Sasuke I have characterized here.

—

**"****Make your own breakfast, usurabaka!" ; **_**"People feel bad for you for your parents' deaths, bakuchiku, … "**_

Because of their ages in canonverse, I decided to play a bit and give the boys brand new names to call one another. Naturally, these nicknames are intended to function as both offensive terms of address and brotherly endearments depending on the situation and the tone of voice used. _Usurabaka_ is similar to _usuratonkachi_, except it's not as long; it translates to "simpleton" and like terms. _Bakuchiku_ means "firecracker".

—

**The blond was **_**always**_** leaning, because if he stood straight he staggered like he was either drunk or had his ears recently blown out.**

Drinking alcohol impairs brain function and through that distorts visual perception, which is what causes a person to stagger and fall. In either inner ear, however, you have a semicircular canal. This actually refers to any one of three half circles arranged very close together; each loop represents the X, Y, or Z axes on the three-dimensional graph. They are also full of fluid, and the motion of that fluid through those loops help you maintain your balance as you sit, stand, lie down, or bend over, similar to the way the bubble in a level helps to determine the angle of a piece of material. When your ears are blown, the fluid drains out and therefore your body can't do any of those things properly.

—

**It had been an incredible shock to learn that Naruto, even at twelve, was a decent cook.**

It seems the fandom is evenly divided as to whether or not any of the _Naruto_ bachelors can cook anything, and the lack of skill in this area is highly common in humor fics. But as far as I'm concerned, they **must** be able to cook or they would all be either broke from eating out constantly or dead from starvation. That goes especially for Naruto and Sasuke. They don't have to be gourmet chefs, but they **do** have to have **some** cooking ability.

—

**Sasuke sighed … when Naruto made a sudden turn into Amaimono, the dango shop. **

Apparently, the name of the dango shop in Konoha is simply 'Dango' (there's a sign). I, being who I am, do not accept so simple a name. Therefore I am calling it _Amaimono_, which means "sweets" or "sweet foods".

—

**"****Oniisan," Naruto greeted cordially …**

I apparently failed to mention this in chapter two, so I'll say it here even though most everyone should know it already. _(O)nii(san)_ is probably the best known – though not the only – term for one's brother, generally an elder brother.

—

All of you probably expected a bit more out of this chapter than what I actually included. **I** expected more out of this chapter than what I actually included. Unfortunately, part of its "lack" is for the sake of concision (as I was advised for chapter seven) – I ended up cutting about six hundred words from this to include at a later date; I do think it helps make the chapter an easier read, though, and ultimately You the Reader(s) won't be missing a thing.

The above notwithstanding, I had to leave out much more than I'd intended because the knowledge parallel!Naruto has would make some things canon!Naruto will be going through less poignant, both for You the Reader(s) and Him the Torture Doll. Boo on that. At any rate, to satisfy my ego in all cases and to give a rough set-up to how things will be progressing in canonverse, I narrowed it down to A Day in the Life of Babysitter Sasuke. Maybe it's egotistical, but I **was** thinking of you all because it was either this or no canonverse chapter at **all** for a very **long** time, and a lot of you wanted to know what was going on in canonverse. Don't worry, though – there **will** be other, more involved canonverse chapters in the future because parallel!Naruto has information that will prove useful to canon!Naruto and that will have to be shared somehow.

—

It's time to play a quick game of _Draw Your Own Conclusion_! Canon!Sasuke needs practice dummies to prepare for what he will do to canon!Naruto upon canon!Naruto's return to canonverse. In regards to this requirement, I can honestly justify the unavailability of those who are taking the time to review. Draw your own conclusion.

~RN (LS)


	9. Ten Bricks

**Author's Notes:** In at least two recent review replies I said I'd be posting chapter ten. That was a lie. I apologize – I was writing chapter ten at the time and had it on my brain.

**Word Count:** 5423 (**Total:** 50279)

**Date Submitted:** 2/28/08

* * *

**Chapter 9**** – Ten Bricks**

* * *

It was not the light that awakened him, though the 'light' could hardly be called such considering how dim it was, but Naruto threw his arm over his eyes anyway so as to not be distracted by it. _Weird . . . Was that a dream?_ When there was no response he prompted sharply, _Kyuubi._

The fox snorted. _Do you have any idea what time it is? What the hell do you want?_

Naruto's brows drew together behind his arm. _Yes, it's five-thirty in the morning._ The idea that the question had been rhetorical hit him belatedly and he accidentally pointed at the ceiling with his free hand while he indicated the fox in a similar manner inside himself. _Wait a minute, were you __**sleeping**__? What the . . . You're __**dead**__. What the hell do __**you**__ need sleep for?_

Kyuubi growled irritably. _I'm not dead, you idiot, merely separated from my body. And I __**don't**__ need sleep. However, though you make ridiculously poor company while awake you're still the only other being in the universe who I can actively communicate with at this point without my presence creating an unfortunate distraction on its own. You sleeping doesn't give me anything better to do – I might as well, even if it's nothing but an imitation of the actual exercise. Now what do you want?_

Naruto dismissed the concept – it was not important. _I think I was dreaming just before I woke up._

_So?_

Naruto rolled blue eyes behind closed lids. _**So**__, was I?_

_I'm not a fortune-teller, brat._ The fox sighed. _But you might as well tell me about it now so I don't have to hear to you whine all day about how I never listen to you._

_I was home, __**our**__ home,_ Naruto explained, immune to the insult, _but I wasn't in control of my body. Sasuke and Kakashi were there; I was living with Sasuke for some reason. We went to my apartment because I wanted to visit my mother but I didn't want to do it while I was wearing dirty underwear._

_I __**told**__ you that you don't need to wear those things; they don't do any good,_ Kyuubi inserted, exasperated. _You humans – so fragile without 'clothing'. But at least I can see the value in wearing them when you barely have any fur to begin with. I've never understood the purpose of undergarments, which no one ever even sees._

Naruto snorted. _That's why you weren't privileged enough to be born human._

_Thank the Lady,_ Kyuubi shot back. _If being born human is considered a privilege, I'd hate to think of the kind of terror necessary to overthrow such supremacy._

Naruto did not bother to point out that the fox was speaking of himself. _After we got clean underwear we went to Ichiraku and Amaimono . . . Hey, when we get back, remind me to make fun of Sasuke for being so sweet and understanding and carrying my boxers in public for me._ The fox cackled his confirmation of the request. He seemed to derive a great deal of pleasure from either embarrassing Sasuke or defeating him in combat. Not that Naruto minded; it was something that he and the fox actually agreed on._ Now where was I? Oh yeah. So after we finished at Amaimono we went out behind field five to the cenotaph. Kakashi was there, like he always is, and we talked a little, then I looked at the names. For some reason I got upset, but half of the ones I got upset over I've never heard of or seen before. I thought those people were supposed to be alive for some reason, and when I saw Kakashi's eye all scarred up I freaked out._

Kyuubi exhaled slowly in response, not quite sighing but obviously not all that interested, and Naruto had to open his mouth to accommodate the superheated, ashy quality of it that still made his nose burn after so many years. _Sounds as though you had a very entertaining dream stemming from homesickness._

Naruto frowned, not convinced by the idea, but he was willing to let it go for the time being. His stomach growled, reminding him of the meal he had not eaten. _Man, I'm starving._

_About that – aren't you trying to __**not**__ be viewed as someone out of place?_ Kyuubi wondered pointedly. _Keep arguing with the Hokage and you'll be in prison before you can roll your eyes at me again._

Naruto made a noise of disagreement and sat up. He gazed at the solemn beige blanket that had pooled in his lap and squeezed the fluffy down inside; he had never had a blanket like that before – it was way too expensive. _That's if he even __**is**__ the Hokage. We still have no idea where we are, remember?_

Kyuubi did not answer, but his silence was strangely thoughtful – Naruto would have called it hesitant had he not already known that the giant fox always spoke his mind.

The door to his bedroom opened slowly, without a knock, and Naruto stiffened in preparation of _something_ as his right hand slid back for the kunai he had tucked under his pillow. It had been said that it was stupid to keep a weapon beneath a pillow because that was the obvious place to put one, but considering his usual sleeping behaviors Naruto did not trust that he could sleep _on_ a weapon without eviscerating himself, so under the pillow it stayed. He frowned at the door, and a delicate head peeked around the edge of it very timidly. Naruto relaxed slightly when he saw that it was Shinju.

"Oh!" she cried softly in surprise when she noticed him watching her. "Naruto-sama! I didn't expect you to be awake already!"

Even having been a ninja for only five years – though 'only' was perhaps the wrong word; genuinely stupid ninja did not live for five years – the admission sounded somewhat more ominous than she had probably intended it. Naruto forgave her. "I had a strange dream. Do you need me for something?"

"Oh, er . . . No, I . . . I . . ." She flushed brightly. "I'm sorry. I was eavesdropping last night. I heard what Hokage-sama said, and I didn't want you to be late for your training this morning."

That was sweet of her, to risk getting lectured for his sake. He yawned widely. "Thanks. What time is it?"

"Almost six."

_Screw getting in trouble,_ Kyuubi decided. _Your sire was being unreasonable. Just go back to bed._

_As good as I am at antagonizing people,_ Naruto replied, _kindly notice that I generally don't do that kind of thing purposely. Anymore, anyway. Besides, weren't __**you**__ the one telling me to not stir things up?_

He threw his thick blanket back and slid out of bed, and Shinju immediately moved into the room to make his bed for him. He watched her for a moment, wondering if he should stop her. She _was_ a servant, after all, whether or not she was getting paid; it was part of her job. He did not enjoy it when people waited on him like that, though; it made him feel as though he was _expected_ to want something every time he noticed them. Still, there were things he could learn from her.

"Hey, Shinju. Can you teach me to make my bed later?"

She looked at him blankly. "O-Of course, Naruto-sama." She frowned. "Is my way not—"

"It's fine!" he assured her. "That's why I asked you. I just . . . never really learned."

It was one of those nonessentials Iruka had always mentioned teaching him, but attempting to correct his general lack of manners tended to take far more time than the chuunin had available; for simplicity's sake, everyone else had more or less given up trying to teach him anything in that regard. So Naruto just made sure his bed _looked_ made, and even though it obviously was not perfect – or even halfway decent – Iruka was satisfied with continuing to put it off. It would be fun to get home and show the chuunin that he had learned how.

He grabbed his clothes and took a shower; though he had not been long, by the time he got back to his room Shinju was done with his bed and had left. She had opened up the one window in the room, too, to let some of the fresh air inside, and as he was tucking kunai and shuriken into their holsters and his clothes he heard someone – a male someone – singing. It was not even singing in the sense that most people imagined; it was more like wordless vocalizations. It was odd to hear – since he was rarely around people who sang at all, let alone well – but at the same time pleasant to his ears. He moved to the window as he stuck a few final shuriken in his pants pockets and poked his head outside cautiously. The morning air was cool and clear and since most of the birds were not awake right then the sound was not distorted or hard to follow. Naruto climbed out his window, immediately face-planted on the bare, frostbitten ground when his legs failed to touch it in the way he had intended, and then at last tracked the noise to its source.

It was the Fourth.

_What a freak,_ Kyuubi snorted. _Birds of a feather, ne, brat?_

_That __**would**__ explain why __**you**__ came to Konoha,_ Naruto replied, without missing a beat.

He stopped by the western corner of the manor and watched the older blond stand at the edge of the cliff, facing east, and sing – or whatever he was doing – at the blood-red horizon. Naruto crept closer slowly, not sure why he was bothering after the previous night's cluster farce, and nearly went back into the house when his father turned toward him, obviously aware the whole time that he had been there, and held out his nearer arm in some kind of invitation. Naruto hesitated, still annoyed about being treated like a criminal, but did finally step closer and allow himself to be trapped lightly against the Fourth's side.

_At least it was a reality check,_ Naruto sighed, primarily to himself, as he closed his eyes against the bright light of the rising sun and leaned into the taller blond's flank. _I think I was getting a little too much into that whole, 'he's my father' thing. I need to get my head screwed on straight again._

After a very long silence, Kyuubi said, _He_ _**is**__ your father._

Naruto snorted internally. _Yeah, I—_

_No, seriously._

Naruto looked up at the Fourth's face, which was washed out slightly by the morning light. He remembered what he had thought in the hospital – that the older blond could have been an image of him in fifteen years. He took a moment to process the idea, then growled. _Don't piss with me, Fox._

Kyuubi huffed, annoyed. _Oh, but if only it were so simple, you little yellow rat. I have been examining our situation like you wanted me to and, after many __**re**__-examinations, have come to a reasonable conclusion. I'll explain it if you promise to not interrupt me with asinine questions or blustery denials._

Naruto considered that. Not asking questions would be easy, but not protesting would be more difficult. The Yondaime had always been his hero – the pinnacle of ninja-dom to which he aspired. Legends regarding the Fourth, more about his many achievements than his title, had continued to circulate even when Naruto had been old enough to be thrown to the tender mercies of the academy instructors, and he had decided that he wanted to be that kind of Hokage. Kyuubi would doubtless make obnoxious observations about the older blond, which Naruto always had and would bristle at. But, in hindsight, the fox had never truly lied to him, either. Complained, exaggerated, and scorned, yes, but never outright lied.

Finally, he said, _Deal._

He sensed Kyuubi shifting, as if settling into a bed like a cat might. _When a living being is offered a choice,_ the giant kitsune offered thoughtfully, _thousands upon thousands upon thousands of possible outcomes – in other words, potential futures – will become open for exploration. Such choices are what form parallel universes. This happens even with something as simple as whether or not you choose to brood about being lonely. And while you yourself may choose to __**not**__ brood, there was another version of you who chose __**to**__ brood. Then the __**manner**__ in which you decide to carry out your choice further affects your future, and there are yet __**more**__ possible futures. Any choices you make at any time during your life will open sets of entirely new and completely different lines of possibility, thus creating unexplored universes that the Narutos who chose differently from you now live in. Each of the starting points of these universes is unique by a single choice, and they then overlap with the single choices of others to form a stable universe agreeable to all._

Naruto frowned. _. . . I don't . . ._

_The vastness of the concept is difficult,_ Kyuubi confessed, patiently and with a surprising hint of kindness, _for even one such as myself to completely comprehend. I do not expect you to understand perfectly._

_It sounds like you're telling me,_ Naruto noted unhappily, _that destiny is real. I don't believe that._

_Destiny – or fate or whatever inane label you would prefer to give it – and free will are not at odds with one another, brat,_ the fox spat. _They never have been and never will be. It's only your human 'genius' that changed them. Now pay attention and I'll do my best to dumb it down for you._

Naruto absently leaned harder into the Fourth's side. _Good luck convincing me._

_Think of each universe as a house,_ Kyuubi instructed. _To make it easier to imagine, we'll say there are ten. Now, to stand properly those ten houses need foundations, yes?_

_Fine,_ Naruto agreed grudgingly.

_You are a mason,_ the fox informed him. _Before you are ten bricks. Each of the ten houses needs one brick to complete its foundation, but you are not the only mason to have worked on them – for the sake of discussion, we'll say that there were ninety-nine others. As a result, the foundations are of very irregular designs, but the other bricks that compose them fit together quite well and make it stable. None of the bricks lying before you has the same shape as any other one, so there is definitely only one brick that will fit into each foundation. And though the shape of the bricks does mean that you have only one available choice – or, if you'd rather, one fate – per foundation, it is __**your**__ choice which of the bricks you choose. In essence, fate or destiny or whatever is indeed an operating concept, but __**you**__ choose your fate every moment of your life. It cannot be forced upon you by some outside influence._

_The people around you are not illusions,_ Kyuubi reminded him. _They are as real as you and, like you, they have every right to choose the direction in which they travel, which is why your bricks are of different shapes; none of their ten bricks could fit just anywhere either. It is not your right to impinge on their choices with your own, nor is it their right to impinge on yours with theirs, so a middle ground must be reached. That is why you may only place a specific brick into a specific foundation, but why the choice of brick is yours._

Naruto considered that. It sounded close enough to what he believed for him to accept it. _I think I get the gist. You're saying we're in a different 'house' than we were?_

_Yes. One significantly unrelated to the one we had been in, apparently, since both of the recent Hokage are still alive and there is no sign of an attack from myself._

_It's not an enemy jutsu or a dream?_

_It does not appear so. It's far too complex as far as simply distracting you for information, and I have no power beyond observation and vague influence in your dreams. To be so complex but operational and to support my contacts with you, this would have to be another 'house' – a universe parallel to our own._

Without thinking, Naruto clutched at the white overcoat the Fourth was wearing and unintentionally drew the focus of curious ice-blue eyes to him. _. . . Then the Yondaime Hokage . . . really is my . . ._ As a child he had often wondered, but never dared to hope. He swallowed anxiously at the realization that he was about to use such a word in conjunction with himself. _. . . father?_

_In every universe in which you were born, yes. And __**yes**__, I'm certain of it – despite his being dead for years, you've smelled like him all your life. I've had plenty of time to check and re-check myself._

Naruto's grip on the overcoat tightened and he struggled to hold in a howl of outrage. It was too much. He had family. After so many years of being nothing except 'that fox-child' and 'that nuisance', he had _family_. After all those years of dodging shouts and newspaper swats like a stray dog . . . _I'm practically royalty! The village __**reveres**__ the Fourth! How could they . . .? Why would they . . .?_

_Fear and prejudice overcome competent thought,_ Kyuubi said wisely.

_No shit,_ he muttered darkly. He shook himself internally; there would be time for such ruminations later. _So . . . Damn it, this is overwhelming . . . So how, exactly, did we __**get**__ here if this is a __**parallel**__ universe?_

'_Parallel' doesn't mean the universes are __**actually**__ parallel, moron,_ Kyuubi explained impatiently._ It just means that they had similar origins and follow a similar timeline. Universes overlap on occasion, where someone's choice has the potential to affect another universe – like two bricks that are different but may have similar shapes. This overlap won't go away until the one whose choice created it dies, and as long as it exists it produces . . . thin spots . . . in the dimensional barrier between the universes, making it easy to cross over if one knows how._

_Except that I don't,_ Naruto reminded him.

_Nor do I,_ Kyuubi admitted, _as it never interested me prior. But it's the likeliest explanation for your three weeks of unconsciousness. I checked your procedural memory and as bad as your injuries were, there's no way the injuries your body received caused it._

_**Procedural**__ memory?_

". . . Naruto?"

_Ask me later,_ Kyuubi decided.

Naruto blinked into the too-bright morning sun and looked up. "Yeah?"

The Yondaime Hokage, _his father_, was gazing down at him with gentle concern. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine," Naruto answered, cautious and still a bit dazed. _Father . . . __**Family**__ . . ._

The taller blond frowned faintly, then turned and crouched to put both of them at roughly the same height, though Naruto was old and grown enough to be a little taller. "Listen, I'm sorry I was so rough with you last night. I was just worried about you and it made me . . ."

Naruto lifted an eyebrow and suggested, "A jackass?"

His father blinked, then nodded and smiled slightly. "Exactly. Even though you're out of the hospital now, it doesn't mean you've healed completely. Ditching your guards . . . If you had been attacked . . ."

"I get it," Naruto promised.

"Please don't do it again," the older blond pleaded. "Please?"

Naruto cringed internally. Knowing that he was in the company of his blood-related family made the idea of lying even worse than it had been at home. _But I can't agree to that – I __**have**__ to figure out what's going on. Even though I know where I am, I still need to figure out exactly how I got here to begin with. And I need to figure out the who and why of the attack as well. But actually saying that is out of the question – anyone I told would think I was crazy, including my family. If __**my**__ son told me that he was from a parallel universe __**I'd**__ think he was crazy._

So he said to his father, "I won't."

The Fourth nodded, noticeably relieved, and Naruto felt like a snake.

_I'm a jackass too . . ._

His father straightened and stood. "A truce, then? You have to train, but I'll let you have breakfast."

Naruto's stomach snarled violently at the thought of food after not consuming any the previous night. He nodded, since rebelling would do nothing but make him hungrier. "A truce."

"Good." The older blond's smiled became stronger. "I'm done, so let's go in. Breakfast should be ready in a few minutes."

The Fourth had hooked one arm around him again, so Naruto had little choice but to follow. He did not resist and instead went along quietly for a moment, then asked, "Dad? Why were you singing?"

His father shrugged one shoulder. "Dunno. It's just something that I've always done." He tilted his head thoughtfully. "I suppose I started after the band formed, to wake my voice up."

Naruto gaped. "You're part of a _band_?" He imagined his father dressed in a tight tee-shirt and pants that had been torn up intentionally and were draped in chains, playing a badass electric guitar that was plugged into an amplifier twice his height. He had the hair for it, anyway. "Whoa . . ."

His father laughed. "Well, maybe not a _band_ so much as a _group_. We did a cappella stuff."

Naruto frowned. ". . . A ca . . . What's _that_?"

"It's where there are no physical instruments," the Fourth explained. "Only voices are used. The voices can either all be singing or some can just keep rhythm."

"I bet you sounded awesome," Naruto decided, in the typically biased way of one close to a situation.

"We weren't bad," his father said modestly. "We never got a record deal – which I suppose is for the best since we were all three ninja to begin with and would never have left that for some fickle career as music stars – but when we practiced in the park we always ended up with an audience. I don't know how big it got; I lost count after fifty. Ojisan might know, since he's much better at multitasking than I am. And I know Sensei didn't care unless they were attractive women who hadn't tied their yukata tightly enough."

Naruto pushed aside the swell of sadness at the mention of Jiraiya. It was not the time for that. It had been nearly three years since the old pervert had been killed; if he was going to be upset about it then he could put it off until a more appropriate time. _Besides, he __**said**__ he wanted to die in battle. I should be happy that he was able to do what he wanted, rather than succumbing to Death By Nosebleed._

_Which he probably wouldn't have complained about,_ Kyuubi noted.

_But it wasn't what he __**wanted**__,_ Naruto insisted. He then quickly forced aside the question of whether or not the old man was alive in the world he was in. He could _not_ go looking for the pervert, he decided with surprising firmness and maturity. Especially not simply for something as pointless as saying hello. If he saw the man then he saw him, but if he did not then he would not go borrowing trouble. Anyway, if Jiraiya _was_ alive it would not do Naruto any good to be blubbering at him.

Still, he could imagine the pervert being a decent singer, with the proper practice. Naruto had been unable to sleep once and heard him humming to himself at the table on the far side of the inn room they had rented. Though the sound had been broken at times by blushing and giggling – he had been working on one of his books, of course – it had been pleasant enough to hear that it had finally caused Naruto to drift off. Adding that memory to his father's voice created a nice, if uneven, harmony.

"Naruto?"

He smiled up at his father. "I was just imagining how that would sound. Are there recordings?"

"Uh . . . Hm . . ." The Fourth's eyes drifted around the area without really seeing anything. "I'm not sure. I know _we_ never recorded ourselves, but your mother might have. I told her not to, but she thought we were 'cute', so she may have recorded some in secret. Why?"

Naruto snickered. "It would just be fun."

The response was a remonstrative set of knuckles scrubbing against his skull good-naturedly. "There's a reason you're supposed to respect your elders, punk. We can take you."

"As if!"

They attempted to fit through the front door at the same time, which definitely did not work when neither one made any effort to narrow himself, and laughed when they realized they were stuck. Father leaned hard on son and squeezed into the vestibule first. "Ha!"

Unruffled, Naruto brushed imaginary dust off his front. "I understand. Age before beauty."

"Just goes to show which one is more valuable," was the cool response.

"When the other does nothing but give you wrinkles," Naruto shot back. He watched the Fourth step out of the zouri he had been wearing and onto the hardwood floor. ". . . Why are you wearing socks?"

His father looked down at the dark-blue tabi on his feet, blinked as though surprised to see them there, and said, "I don't like it when my feet are cold."

Naruto did not know what to _think_ about that, let alone know what to _say_.

"Speaking of which, why aren't _you_ wearing any footwear at all?"

"I climbed out my bedroom window," Naruto said, as though it should have been obvious.

His father was standing in the doorway between the anteroom and the hall and made some kind of gesture to a person Naruto could not see. Still, he asked, "_Why_?"

"Because I heard you singing but didn't know what was going on."

The Fourth stared at him blankly. "So instead of thinking that it might be an enemy, you climbed out your window without anything on your feet?"

Naruto reached into his pocket and pulled out a handful of shuriken, which he displayed so there could be no mistake. "It'll be a mess, but I can unload the rest if you want."

The answer was a hand waving dismissively. "Well, anyway, don't come up here – Aya will pitch a fit if you track prints all over the floor."

"Aya's the cook," Naruto observed pointedly.

"Aya's the head of the support crew here," his father responded. "She just also happens to be the cook." A servant girl who Naruto had not seen before, but who must have been in the house for a while because she was not anxious like Shinju, appeared with a damp rag. She gave it to the Fourth, who thanked her politely before throwing the cloth at Naruto's face. "Wipe your feet."

He did so, and the girl took it away with nothing but a dip of her head. The Fourth scratched his head as she walked off, and when she turned the corner he said, "I wish she'd talk more." He looked at Naruto. "That's Shizuka, by the way. Shinju seems to be pretty concerned with being your sole housekeeper, but you should know all of the girls' names anyway. For the sake of their self-confidence, if nothing else."

Naruto, his feet clean enough to not enrage a ladle-wielding Aya, drifted down the hall after his father, who was presumably headed for the dining room. "Why are there so many girls here? Shouldn't there be at least two or three guys?"

His father chuckled. "I made the mistake of telling your mother that since I already had you, I'd be satisfied with one or two more kids. However, it turns out that _she_ wanted a _big_ family, so whenever she went out of town she generally came back with a girl she had picked up for one reason or another – most of them had some form of a bad home life, anything from abusive relationships to being on the verge of taking up residence in the red light districts to make money. Hotaru doesn't go out quite so far, but from time to time she has brought one with her; Shinju's the most recent one. I don't know _exactly_ what situation each came from – it's none of my business – but I accept that it was bad enough to warrant removal. They pay for room and board by keeping this place clean."

That made Naruto think that Shinju's circumstances must have been particularly desperate for her to be so eager to please. "Do they ever leave?"

"Eventually. At some point they usually become confident enough do go to school or find a husband."

School.

School would be _perfect_ start for Shinju, Naruto mused as he reflected on the sixteen-year-old's shyness. It would be a safe environment to practice being more assertive. "Dad? I think Shinju should go to school."

The Fourth looked at him. "Has she mentioned it?"

Naruto shook his head. "She can barely talk to me without stuttering – she'd never ask."

"If she's not ready . . ."

"I think she is. She just doesn't _want_ to be because she's scared. We need to get her out of the house; she's never left, so it's more a prison than anything. Some people do really well when they're pushed into something, and she knows Konoha well enough to settle into an apartment."

His father hemmed and hawed over it as they entered the dining room. ". . . I'll think about it, okay?"

Naruto nodded and let it go. Forcing the issue would do no good, especially since there was no guarantee that Shinju would be willing to even try.

"Daddy!" Akiko chirped as she toddled into the room from the hall. Hitomi was only a second behind and did not seemed to be harried yet.

"Hi, sweetie," the Fourth answered warmly. The two-year-old ran over to where he stood, the slim shape of her little violet kimono nearly tripping her, and held her arms up to him expectantly. He smiled and bent down to lift her and the speed at which he straightened earned a squeal of delight. "Thank you for behaving yourself for Hitomi this morning," he said as he brushed a lock of long, perfectly straight black hair behind a delicate ear. "I'd be most appreciative if you'd continue to do so for the rest of your life."

He set her in her high chair at the table. When she fidgeted he touched the end of her nose with his finger, which stilled her and made her hazel eyes cross with curiosity. "Be still," he commanded firmly, and with a tiny huff of rebellious frustration she obeyed.

When his father turned back in his general direction, Naruto held up his arms like his sister had. The Fourth stared at him for a minute, and though he had been joking Naruto suddenly found himself being lifted off his feet as though he was half his age. Startled, he held still so as to not cause the elder blond to lose his balance, and in the next moment there were arms supporting him from below and he was looking his father in the eye.

The Fourth laughed. "You should see your face!"

Naruto blinked and peered over his own arm and his father's overcoat-clad shoulder at the floor, which seemed to be alarmingly far away despite the heights he had fallen from throughout his life. ". . . I wasn't serious." He frowned faintly and asked, "Is this okay?"

"It's fine," the Fourth promised, not sounding as though he was straining at all, "as long as I keep you close and probably if I don't try to carry you around for more than an hour. I certainly couldn't hold you in one arm, even if I used chakra – your butt's too big."

"Butt!" Akiko agreed with a laugh.

Naruto made a face. "My butt is small and pleasing, thanks."

His father laughed again, a bit more heartily, and set him in his chair at the table. "Make sure you eat well enough to miss lunch – I've been told you're going to be worked hard from now on." He turned away, but paused and turned back. "Oh." He held his hand out toward Naruto and curled his fingers impatiently. "By the way, I'd like you to hand over that piece of metal you made off with yesterday."

* * *

To be continued in . . . **Chapter 10**** – Kiba Inu**

Kyuubi sighed. _The overlaps between the universes necessarily don't happen at the same time or place,_ he responded. _One's choices can affect oneself at any time during his or her life. If circumstances had been slightly different, you could have ended up in a forty-year-old version of yourself._

Naruto was so engrossed in imagining what he might look like at forty that he nearly missed the two swaths of black – one big, one considerably smaller – that streaked across the path in front of him.

* * *

**Answers To Questions You Didn't Even Know You Wanted To Ask:**

The primary reason this chapter is only coming out now is because I was writing portions of the prequel to _Door Number Two_/_Vis-à-Vis_ for the first half of the month. At that point I was reading some good stories and got a decent idea for a time-travel (dun dun DUN!) fic where Naruto ends up going back in time (haven't quite figured out how yet) to a point where Yondy isn't Hokage yet, so I wrote that for the other half of the month. This is not a new concept, I'm sure most of you know, but I'm doing it anyway. Just in case anyone was wondering where I had gone, so you know I wasn't simply slacking.

Also, I apologize particularly for this chapter's lackluster contents – in the sense of interesting occurrences – on top of the long wait. I'll do my best to get chapter ten out much sooner to make up for it.

—

_**The vastness of the concept is difficult**_** …**_** to completely comprehend. I do not expect you to fully understand.**_

When I originally wrote the parallel universe theory in _DNT_, I knew it was complicated but couldn't simplify it more than I had at the time. It was only after trying to explain it in review replies that I came up with the house allegory, because the main point of confusion seemed to be that everyone thought each universe revolved around one choice of one person. Which isn't necessarily wrong, but it's not exactly right, either. I hope that the explanation here is a bit clearer.

It was also mentioned to me in _DNT_ that my parallel universe theory is similar to a few quantum mechanics theories. I assure you that this is a coincidence – I'm too dumb to know anything about quantum mechanics.

—

**"****Only voices are used. The voices can either all be singing or some can just keep rhythm."**

_A cappella_ is generally employed by choral groups, but Bobby McFerrin got his fifteen minutes of fame with it. He's best known, I believe, for "Don't Worry, Be Happy". (I recognize that Bob Marley has his own version of the song, but unless he also performed the song a cappella there's no reason to argue about which came first, so please don't bring it up.)

—

**" …** **And I know Sensei didn't care unless they … hadn't tied their yukata tightly enough."**

For those who don't know, a _yukata_ is a light cotton robe generally worn around one's house or an inn, specifically as a bathrobe; however, they are also commonly worn during the summer and for various festivals. They're essentially an informal _kimono_ (assuming everyone already knows what a _kimono_ is by now), belted with an _obi_ while outside the home, and must be worn in a specific way. Traditionally, the color and pattern of a _yukata_ is brighter and more active the younger one is, but nowadays this isn't always true.

—

**He watched the Fourth step out of the zouri he had been wearing and onto the hardwood floor.**

_Zouri_ are flat sandals made of various natural materials – straw, leather, rubber, etc. – but more recently are being made of synthetic material. Generally, the traditional forms are worn with _kimono_ while the more modern versions are worn with casual and Western clothes, but this isn't always true depending on the event in question. In formal situations, white _tabi_ must be worn with _zouri_.

—

**His father looked down at the dark-blue tabi on his feet …**

_Tabi_ are socks that are stitched between the big toe and the other four so that they can be worn with _zouri_. However, _tabi_ are **not** worn with _yukata_ – a special type of wooden sandal, _geta_, are worn instead, and they do not require the use of _tabi_. (Interestingly, Kaoru in _Rurouni Kenshin_ is almost always wearing _tabi_ and _geta_, but I believe she also usually wears _kimono_, and that may change things around . . . and it's more or less a fictional story, so it could just be a character quirk.)

—

It's time to play a quick game of _Draw Your Own Conclusion_! Canon!Naruto is trying to collect an audience so that he can coerce his father into singing again. If you review, canon!Naruto will have your name on hand and he can call on you to attend. Draw your own conclusion.

~RN (LS)


	10. Kiba Inu

**Author's Notes:** So, manga chapter 437 (but no spoilers, so you can read it)! OMGWTFBBQ? This has to be one of **the best** chapters in **ages**. I love Hinata, really I do, and I congratulate her eternally for her bravery, but she has **awful** timing. And of course, I couldn't not say anything about **Naruto**. Dear **lord** . . . I do know one thing, though – Pain must die. **Now**. That deranged, repugnant sociopath . . . "My pain is greater than yours"? Please. That he's so intent on glorifying his suffering because he thinks it'll shock people into giving a damn – and then tormenting them when they don't, as though that's going to do any good – only proves how immature and insecure he is. Fucking prick. I hope Naruto nails that bastard's ass to the wall.

**Word Count:** 5922 (**Total:** 56200)

**Date Submitted:** 3/12/09

* * *

**Chapter 10**** – Kiba Inu**

* * *

Naruto rubbed his mouth carefully as he walked along the path to the private training ground, where his tutor would be waiting. _Between trying to get through the window and trying to feed myself I think I knocked out half my teeth and spilled as much of my breakfast down my front. When did my legs and arms get so short?_ he wondered, half expecting Kyuubi to respond, half not bothering to care. _It wasn't like this before. I mean, how could I have gotten away from those ANBU so easily, yet I can't even leave my bedroom without falling on my face?_

_You were thinking about it too much, _the fox told him with a bored yawn. _You're far more used to a body that's considerably taller than your current one, and though you grew into that taller one and had time to adjust to it, you've been shuttled back to this smaller one. You have yet to fully adjust to it and in a battle you would be at a dangerous disadvantage if you thought about it as much as you have in the past four hours. Why do you think your teachers were always telling you to learn to do things __**without**__ thinking?_

"They said that . . .?" Naruto wondered aloud, a split-second before recalling that yes, they had.

_Your luck must be incredible for you to have survived this long,_ the kitsune grumbled.

_If 'luck' is just another word for a giant fox demon,_ Naruto sighed. He had to give credit where credit was due, after all; adaptable as he was, Naruto could not assume total responsibility for his ability to survive the kinds of battles he routinely threw himself into.

_True enough,_ Kyuubi decided with a firm nod.

_So what does not thinking have to do with it?_

_Procedural memory,_ was the lazy response. _One might call it the memory of the body. For example, when one truly loses his accessible memory, in a case where there is little or no brain injury he can still speak, write, read, swim, or do anything else that he learned to do without thinking about it. It's why so many amnestic ninja still retain their skills even if they can't consciously remember how to utilize them. Your body as it is knows how to move itself without you having to dwell on the 'how', so whenever you do – and then try to apply knowledge of an older, longer body – you trip yourself up._

_Then what do you suggest?_

_Tell your body what you want it to do, then let __**it**__ figure out __**how**__._

Naruto tilted his head. It was sound enough advice, considering that the only other option he could see was to learn how to creep around on his stomach like a worm so he would not hurt himself. _Yeesh . . ._ With that decided for the time being, his mind drifted. _So this 'memory of the body' . . . do you mean instincts?_

Kyuubi made a noise of disgust. _Oh, please. Don't cheapen the magnificence of instincts. Comparing them is like comparing apples and oranges. Both are fruits, but the similarity ends there. Instincts are the six senses and the four basic emotions – happiness, sadness, anger, fear; they are things you are born with even if you can't define them at first. Procedural memory is learned behaviors; things that __**seem**__ like instincts._

_I see._ Naruto had a sudden stroke of genius. _Hey, you said you didn't know how to cross between universes. Could this body memory tell you how we got here?_

_Not directly,_ Kyuubi acknowledged, _though I have tried to get an answer from it. What I __**did**__ learn was that three weeks ago this body we are inhabiting was viciously attacked by someone or something with a killing intent. There was great fear and much pain and at some point there was an impact with something hard. It had life energy, so I assume it was a tree. The impact with the tree was followed almost instantly by a second impact from behind. There was a swell of demonic chakra, which I must also assume was mine—_

Naruto blinked. _You don't_ _**know**__?_

_Boy,_ the fox growled, _this body is disgusting. Were we in your original body, I could have given you the name of the tree that was involved. As things currently stand, with such a woefully out-of-shape body, vague details are all I can offer._

Naruto sighed and tested his right arm absently. _Yeah, this body sucks. I really need to get some training done. But that's what I'm about to do, so go on._

_The demonic chakra – presumably mine – overloaded this body and much of it was released because of a lack of control at that moment._

_That would explain your condition earlier,_ Naruto reasoned.

_So it would seem. The killing intent was frightened off by the discharge of chakra, which was good because by then this body was . . . what's your term for it? 'Fried'? Yes, the amount and strength of the chakra had almost completely wiped out this body's existence. I believe it was only your presence that saved it._

_Mine?_ Naruto wondered.

_I'm not sure of the particulars yet,_ Kyuubi replied. _Though your psyche __**is**__ better suited to my presence and as I said, the mind can affect the body and vice versa._

_About that . . . Where's this . . . other me? In __**my**__ body?_

It was an alarming thought, that some twelve-year-old could have been in his body screwing things up.

_That I do not know,_ the fox admitted. _But he's not here with us._

_Great,_ Naruto muttered. _So you're saying that even if we figure out a way back to my body, the other me might not get back to his?_

_Possibly not,_ Kyuubi conceded. _Assuming this body survives long enough for us to do so._

_What do you mean?_

_There was a reason that I was sealed into __**your**__ body as opposed to the body of some random consenting adult,_ the fox said.

_Yeah?_

Kyuubi snorted. _I'm tired of explaining the world to you. Figure it out yourself._

Naruto made a face at the kitsune. The fox would only lead him in a large logic-circle and leave him even more lost than he had been, so he did not bother to pursue the subject.

At first.

_. . . Kyuubi?_

_Go away,_ the fox grumped.

Naruto paid no attention. _If I'm in a parallel world, why am I younger than I should be?_

Kyuubi sighed. _The overlaps between the universes don't necessarily happen at the same time or place,_ he responded. _One's choices can affect oneself at any time during his or her life. If circumstances had been slightly different, you could have ended up in a forty-year-old version of yourself._

Naruto was so engrossed in imagining himself at forty years of age that he nearly missed the two swaths of black – one big, one considerably smaller – that streaked in front of him across the path that was still too protected by trees to be lit well by the rising sun. He did pick the shapes up in his periphery, however, and he dropped to the ground cautiously. After less than a minute of waiting, the things came back and crossed in roughly the same area. About ninety seconds after that they came by again, also again in the same area. Naruto crept closer to their crossing point and paused when they passed in front of him once more.

At that point, he got a whiff of them and decided there was no danger. _The ANBU watching over me would never have let me get this close, either,_ he mused as he carefully stuck his leg into the area where he projected the intruders would come by again. They were not perfectly quiet, so he was able to adjust his position just before the larger shape burst from the brush and tripped over his shin. The littler shape, barreling blindly along behind like always, slammed into his shin directly and ricocheted back into the brush.

"Whoa!" the larger shape cried as it tumbled across the path.

"Ki-yi!" the littler shape answered.

The larger shape finally began to resemble a human, and Naruto dusted his hands off while he looked with some surprise at one stunned Inuzuka Kiba. He had not really expected the tripping thing to work; Kiba had almost always been able to pick him up by his scent long before they saw one another, but if he did not then his reflexes had never failed to keep him from _falling_ like that. He held out one hand. "Are you okay?"

Kiba unfolded from where he had more or less landed on the back of his neck. When he first looked up he was glaring, but when he saw Naruto he schooled his features. "Naruto-sama! Er . . . thanks." He let Naruto pull him to his feet and looked around. ". . . Shiromaru?"

The puppy crept from the underbrush, ears flat, and whimpered. Naruto mused briefly on the dog's 'new' name, curious as to why it would have 'changed', then noticed that the ears of the dog who was not Akamaru were just plain white – they did not have the grey-brown patches he remembered. In fact, the dog who was not Akamaru was also a much brighter white than Akamaru had ever been. _Is it a completely different dog,_ he wondered, and was suspicious that it was the truth, _or just a different name?_

"Are you hurt?" Kiba asked.

Shiromaru shook leaves and twigs from that shining white coat, then yipped.

"Ah, good." Kiba turned to Naruto again. "What are you doing here?"

One of the blond's brows lifted. "I'm following this path, which happens to be on the property allotted to the ruling Hokage, to the Hokage's private training grounds where I'm going to get in some practice before it gets too hot. What are _you_ doing here?"

He would have to be more careful, he realized. He knew he tended to mouth off somewhat even under the best circumstances – he just did not care enough to do anything about it – and knowing he was a legitimate heir of the Yondaime Hokage would not help. It would give him a big head very quickly if he did not monitor himself better than he had in the past. _I'll save it for the ones who deserve it,_ he decided. _And the ones who deserve it are not my friends._ He reassessed the person standing in front of him – the one with whom he shared a temper and with whom he had more confrontations than he did with Sasuke – and amended, _Usually. We'll have to see._

Kiba had the grace to be embarrassed and he crammed his hands into the pockets of his mud-brown jacket. Either he was wearing it only for the morning exercise or it was simply a difference Naruto would have to get used to. The faux fur around the hood's seam was still black rather than the lighter color Naruto had expected, but it was likely much better that way since nothing screamed 'Target me!' like a ring of pale material around one's head. "Oh, well . . . You see, the woods are really dense here and they're really good for Shiromaru and me – especially me – to hone our noses and ears, since we can't rely so much on our eyes in the darkness." He scuffed the toe of one sandal against the dusty path, seeming contrite and worried all of the sudden. "It's okay, isn't it? I mean . . . I'm sorry, I should've asked . . ."

"I'm sure it's fine," Naruto promised, so used to Akamaru's presence that he paid the new puppy at his feet no attention when he felt the cold morning air move around his left ankle. "But you still should've asked, definitely. These woods are patrolled in case someone tries to ambush the Hokage; if they know to expect you," he pointed out, "you're a lot less likely to end up dead."

Kiba scratched the back of his head. "Yeah, I guess so . . . Where should I, er, direct my request?"

Naruto frowned thoughtfully. He knew more of Konoha's administrative processes than one might expect, since he had studied them from time to time as part of his preparation for being Hokage. He had never done it often or for long, though – too boring – so he had to really think to draw the information forward. It did not work all that well, but there was enough that he felt confident in saying, "Because this is all considered village property, I _think_ you'd have to submit a formal inquiry to the council." Kiba grimaced and Naruto nodded sympathetically. "And who wants to deal with those windbags, right? Eh . . ." He brightened. "Okay, well, how about this, then? I'll give you permission to practice up here today if you make sure you clean up after Shiromaru, and then I'll say something to my dad and he can give you at least a temporary permission slip."

"Really?" Kiba cried, delighted.

Naruto nodded again. "Apply with the council for full permission, though. And if they bitch and moan about it for too long, I'm sure Dad'll just write you another temporary slip."

For Kiba, the holidays had all come early. "Wow! That'd be great, Naruto-sama! Thanks!" He grinned and said, obviously without thinking, "You're a lot nicer than you were in the academy!" When he realized Naruto was staring at him, he clapped his hand over his mouth and wilted. ". . . Oops."

Naruto dismissed the comment with a flap of his hand. "I've heard that I wasn't all that . . . friendly. But I don't remember any of that anymore, so I figure I should start over."

Kiba pointed at him. "That's right – you were attacked!" He gave the blond a once-over. "But I heard you were in the hospital . . ."

"For three weeks," Naruto confirmed. "I just got out the other day."

That was when Naruto felt what seemed to be dull makibishi press into two areas on either side of his left ankle. It did not really hurt all that much, except that there was a great deal of pressure being put on slightly less than fifteen total points. He looked down and had to admit that he was surprised to find that Shiromaru had bitten him and was valiantly attempting to throttle his leg. "Ow," he said, and there was no meaning behind the word other than as an observation that the sensation was uncomfortable, since Shiromaru was barely large enough to bite his ankle at all let alone do him serious injury.

_I hate dogs,_ Kyuubi said.

Kiba was mortified. "_Shiromaru_!" He knelt and pried the pup's jaws apart, then moved the dog back before straightening with the pup in his arms. "I'm very sorry, Naruto-sama!" he said, and bowed hurriedly. "Shiromaru has never bitten anyone who wasn't an enemy before!" The blond did not have the chance to answer because Kiba turned to glare at the puppy, betrayed. "Bad dog, Shiromaru! How could you bite Naruto-sama when he's being so helpful to us? _Bad girl_!"

Naruto felt his right eye tic in disbelief. _A __**girl**__ dog? A girl dog named __**Shiromaru**__?_

"—I'm _really_ sorry, Naruto-sama," Kiba was saying, beyond embarrassed. "This probably won't make you feel any better, but at least you don't have to worry about getting an infection; I brush and floss her teeth twice a day and she stays inside a lot, so her mouth is clean . . ."

Naruto lifted his left leg while Kiba went on to assure him that Shiromaru got a bath every week and was never allowed to eat any kind of food that was over a week old. His ankle was twinging – the bite had more or less been a bone-on-bone thing since there was so little of anything there – and he would have bruises for an hour or so, but they would heal soon. It would be a bit tender, but there was no reason to fuss about something that would be gone by midday. "It's fine," he decided magnanimously, making another dismissive wave with his hand.

"I'll discipline her anyway," Kiba promised. "I don't know why, but . . . I mean, if you had been some little kid . . ." He apparently had a thought, because he became even more horrified. "Does your sister come through here often? Or even your mother?"

Naruto frowned slightly and peered up at the branches overhead. ". . . I dunno. Akiko's not supposed to go anywhere without either Mom or Hitomi, but as I understand it she _does_ escape sometimes and then wanders around outside. You have a point," he conceded, and added with that strange high-class inflection he had used with Sasuke and Itachi, "Do whatever you feel should be done."

Kiba nodded fervently. "I will. I promise." He then dropped his attention to Shiromaru and hissed sharply, so the puppy would not forget that she was in trouble, "_Bad dog_!"

Shiromaru barked what even Naruto could tell was some kind of protest.

Kiba grimaced. "That doesn't mean you can just _bite_ someone, stupid!"

"What is it?" Naruto asked. "Do I smell weird?"

Kiba's grimace deepened and he hedged, ". . . Well . . . _yes_ . . ." He hesitated, then explained, "You smell like a fox. And dogs . . ."

"Don't like foxes," Naruto finished for him. He knew that very, very well. "I see."

Kiba hesitated anew, then seemed to decide that he had already offended Naruto several times, so he might as well do it again and get it over with. ". . . Why _do_ you smell like a fox? You didn't before . . ."

It was because of Kyuubi, though Naruto was not about to say that. He had been thirteen before he heard the truth from Pakkun, but he had smelled like a fox all of his life because of the kitsune. And until they had learned that his fox-smell coupled with his human body meant _no bite_ – an education hurried along by the fact that he quickly and desperately devised ways to beat them back with anything and everything that he found at his fingertips – the various village dogs had chased him relentlessly every time they had gotten the faintest whiff of him. Even the Inuzuka dogs had never failed to growl and bark at him when he had been little, though they had also never chased him beyond a certain radius from the clan grounds, a zone which he correctly assumed – as Kiba had informed him once – they felt was their territory. Akamaru had barked at Naruto incessantly during recesses at the academy, though the pup had eventually stopped, probably because it had not done any good and earned him nothing but a punt – gentle as it was – in Kiba's direction.

Before Naruto could come up with even a half-assed reason for his scent, Kiba pointed at him. The other boy was apparently rapidly losing whatever cautious respect he had felt in the blond's presence, whether because he felt more comfortable or because he just figured his behavior had already shown him in a bad light and there was no point in trying to make up for it. "And what are those marks on your face, anyway?"

Naruto rubbed one cheek with the side of his hand. _I forgot to cover them up!_ Well, at least his mother had not seen them. Or so he guessed, since she had not addressed their presence over breakfast. "Just something that I got recently. Don't tell my mom, please." He reached casually into his left back pocket, pulled loose the liquid concealer and compact mirror he had bought the day before while on his way to get ramen for himself and his father, and began to smooth the concealer over the marks. _It's kind of a shame, 'cause I like them. But one must do what has to be done, and this is a small price to pay to avoid suspicion._

Kiba watched him, then recoiled and said, "Dude, that's weird."

Naruto shrugged. "Dad doesn't want Mom to kill us, so I have to."

"Then why did you get them?" Kiba queried.

Naruto grinned. "_I_ don't care what she thinks about them, but I have to do what Dad says for now, since I'm living in his house and everything."

"What're you planning to say when she finds out?"

Because it was, of course, not a matter of 'if' she found out.

The grin widened. "I'll just tell her that it was either these or a huge tattoo on my ass that said, 'Property of Konohagakure'."

Kiba made a strange half-snort sound, then laughed.

"It'd be true, wouldn't it?" Naruto asked as he finished blending the concealer. "I mean, I'm a ninja, so my life is pretty much forfeit in the name of the village anyway."

"Yeah," Kiba cackled.

Naruto slipped the concealer and mirror back into his pocket. "Look, I have to go. I'm totally late now, but I don't suppose it really matters; _I_ don't care. Just answer me one question."

"What is it?" Kiba wondered, sounding vaguely nervous.

Naruto pointed at the puppy, which was glaring at him, cradled in the other boy's arms. "_Shiromaru_?"

Kiba frowned. ". . . So?"

"That's a guy's name," Naruto replied. "You gave a girl dog a guy dog's name."

"No way," Kiba said. "She likes to sleep all curled up. Her name is 'White Circle'."

Naruto squinted at him, examining him in an exaggerated fashion as though to check to see if he was lying. Finally, he said, ". . . All right."

Kiba rolled his eyes. "Glad you approve."

Naruto grinned impishly and waved as he stepped past the brunet. "I'll try to talk to my dad today, but don't expect anything before tomorrow, okay?"

Kiba nodded. "Thank you, Naruto-sama. I really am sorry about Shiromaru biting you."

"Forget it," Naruto told him as he continued on his way. "The marks'll be gone soon." He had taken several more steps before he had another thought. He turned back in time to see Kiba toss Shiromaru into the underbrush in a way that would have seemed careless to someone who had not handled animals much. "Oi, Kiba!"

The other boy looked over at him. "Yeah?"

"Is Shino up here too?"

"_Aburame_ Shino?" Naruto nodded and Kiba frowned. "No. Why would he be?"

"Just wondering." Naruto would have let the subject go at that, except that – thanks to Kyuubi's sensitive fox ears – he heard the brunet mutter something about 'freaky bugs'. "Don't dis the bugs, Inuzuka," he called back without turning. "Ten will often succeed where a hundred dogs fail."

The rest of the walk to the clearing was a bit warmer thanks to the brief dawdle with Kiba, though Naruto felt it necessary to loiter just a bit longer when he reached a certain point along the path. He glanced around at the trees, stubbornly refusing to move on until he found what he was looking for. Finally, he spotted it and waded through the underbrush to one of the trees, over which he ran his fingers thoughtfully. He dipped one finger into the gouge mark there and frowned. He was aware that his guards were watching, but since they were not the same ones from the day before he hoped they were not aware of the tree's significance.

_This was too careless and too harmful to have been made by an animal,_ Naruto decided. _And it's burned. But . . . from the inside?_ He peered into the scar that so callously exposed the tree's delicate sapwood. _No, this is an acid burn._ He sniffed it. _Can't tell what kind . . . Damn. Have to bring Kiba up here sometime._

_If you'd use my nose properly,_ Kyuubi growled, _you wouldn't need him._

_It's not that,_ Naruto snapped. _All the scents are gone – at the very __**least**__ it's been about a month since this was put here. Kiba has – or had – an interest in corrosive stuff at some point._ He tilted his head. _Shino might know, too, now that I think about it. Some of his bugs secrete acids._

_What about that deer boy?_

_Deer . . .?_ Naruto echoed blankly. _Oh, you mean Shikamaru? He might, yeah. I can ask him when I go back for that shard of metal._

The recollection of the silver fragment made his frown deepen. After breakfast, because Naruto had left the remaining portion of the metal on a chest of drawers, the Fourth had followed him to his bedroom. The older blond had accepted the sliver, looked at it for a moment, then looked at Naruto for a very long time before saying, _"You have to get to the training grounds, don't you?"_ Naruto had used the inquiry as an escape route from any further questions and fled to think. _He noticed that something was wrong with it, but how would he have known?_

_You moron,_ Sarcasm interjected. _Does 'Yondaime Hokage' mean anything to you?_

Naruto had to agree. _It's like I told Konohamaru – being Hokage isn't so easy that just __**anyone**__ could do it. But then why didn't he have me arrested?_

_He wants to believe that you are who you say you are,_ Kyuubi sighed impatiently. _It's distressing to see one's kit acting against the pack, even in non-aggressive ways. But the more you act out, the more difficult it is for him to accept that. If you don't shape up, eventually he __**will**__ have you arrested._

That made sense. Naruto resolved to behave as much as possible. After all, he could not be _exactly_ like the Fourth's son was before the attack, but he could give the man a reason to not worry. And that would theoretically be a lot easier, since he knew that he was not trapped in some elaborate genjutsu.

With a quiet exhale, he looked at the gouge mark again. Even if Kyuubi could not hear it with the body they were in, the tree was surely crying and in a lot of pain. He would have to flush all of the wood-eating insects out of the wound and then fill it in or cover it with something. Maybe, if it had the opportunity to heal itself, it would live. He wondered if Yamato could do anything for it.

Naruto turned away from the tree and stepped back onto the main path to continue on his way to the private training ground, only to catch sight of what appeared to be the silhouette of a cloaked human standing deep in the trees opposite him. He stared at it, wondering who might be so stupid as to wander around a ninja village wearing a cloak with the hood up. Not that it was illegal, but it was good manners to prove one's intention against doing harm by revealing one's face, and doing so would make one less likely to be targeted by patrols.

Just as he was about to call out a challenge, the person turned toward him. Naruto did not see anything, but a shock of unease ran down his spine. It was simply _wrong_; no one was supposed to be there. Kiba was different, as he was a friend and ally and had not been hiding himself at all.

It helped that his guards registered his disquiet, but it did _not_ help when they left their tree perches and took protective positions on either side of him. The only reason that the ANBU would leave their advantageous hiding places would be if there had been an attack to deflect – which there was not – or they themselves had been unable to detect the source of Naruto's focus and were trying to identify it by checking from his range. That ANBU would have to do so was unsettling, and Naruto bit back a shout of alarm when he shifted his attention toward his guards and the cloaked person vanished from his periphery without a sound – just faded into the strengthening morning light. Worse, the two ANBU had not seen the person themselves. They did not seem to disbelieve Naruto when he explained what he had seen, but they did not appear to be particularly concerned, either.

If they had not been able to sense anything then they probably thought it was an optical illusion of some kind. It was not impossible, he had to admit, though Naruto's survival instincts had been honed through many years of village neglect and abuse, and he _knew_ he was not up for a hard fight at that moment. _Maybe it was Kiba playing a little prank?_

Neither Kyuubi nor Sarcasm responded, and Naruto found he did not really believe it himself.

He decided, as his guards silently returned to the trees, that he would just go to the training field. Whoever would be teaching him will be there, and the odds would be four to one if they were attacked. Problem solved.

The remainder of the trip to the training ground was swift, and he knew that his tutor was there long before he actually saw the person. He had been half afraid that Kakashi would be his tutor and that forcing him to get up so early was his father's way of punishing him, no matter the excuse about training being easier in the early morning. Of course, Kakashi could _still_ be his tutor, just punctual for a change.

Naruto scoffed at that idea, and resolved to put the incident with the cloaked person aside so that he could concentrate on the practice. There was no way Kakashi-sensei could or would ever be on time for _anything_. Except for food, he amended after a brief consideration; he was generally only about ten minutes late if someone promises to buy him something to eat.

"You're late," his tutor said by way of greeting.

Naruto made a dismissive noise until he realized that he _knew_ who his tutor was, and it was not who he had been expecting. "Sandaime-jiisan?"

The Third's expression was flat and not the least bit amused. He pointed at a tree trunk that was obviously there as a sort of bench. "Sit." When Naruto had, he said, "You are nearly half an hour late. Explain."

The blond gestured over his shoulder at the path. "Kiba was practicing up here."

One age-thinned eyebrow went up. "Inuzuka Kiba?" Naruto nodded and dark eyes narrowed in suspicion. "No one is allowed in this area without permission from the council."

Naruto nodded again. "He didn't know. Or rather, he figured he should have asked, but thought it would be okay since no one is up here on a regular basis." He looked at the old man for a moment, then said, "You don't think he's a spy or something, do you, Gramps? Who would bother to pretend to be Kiba? I mean, he's great to work with once you get used to his mouth and Shiromaru's nose is keen and all, but he's not exactly on Konoha's who's who list, either. He's a genin – nobody would impersonate him. And anyway, his movements were a lot less like a spy and a lot more like a person who had lost something."

The Third regarded him blankly. "It will be looked into."

Naruto, hands planted between his thighs on the tree trunk, shrugged. "Please yourself." He beamed at the elderly man and thought fondly that he had really missed the old fart. "So! What awesome stuff are we doing today? Are you going to teach me a kick-ass sure-kill technique?"

"Introductory kata," was the response.

Naruto stared in shocked disbelief. Outrage soon followed, and his comfort with the presence of the person he was with allowed him to act more like himself. "No way!"

"Introductory kata," the Third insisted calmly.

"_Whaaaaaaaa_?" Naruto protested. "Come _on_! Be serious!"

"What's serious is your physical condition," the old man answered pointedly. "Jumping straight into the 'kick-ass sure-kill' fare—"

"Ha ha," Naruto snickered. "You said 'ass'."

"—as you put it," the Third continued, as though he had not heard, "would put _you_ back in the hospital."

"Boo," Naruto decided, and stuck out his tongue.

The old man watched him for a moment, but Naruto was too content to be concerned by the scrutiny being aimed at him. "You will be working with introductory kata for at least the rest of the week."

Naruto sighed. "You're not going to let this go, are you?"

That was how the blond found himself performing calisthenics to warm up his out-of-shape muscles in the temperate mid-morning climate, then half sleeping his way through kata he had learned in the academy – which he had never forgotten, either, since it had been of the audio-visual style of learning that he was best at. After two hours of that, which had soothed his earlier irritation about being confined to kiddie exercises, he graduated to punching and kicking a standard training post. An hour and a half later, Naruto had to grudgingly agree that he would need at least another day of the hated groundwork; he was missing the post entirely nearly a third of the time. He would only need another day, though, he was sure, because he already knew what was wrong.

_My arms and legs are too short! Why isn't this working?_

_You're __**thinking**__, moron,_ Kyuubi pointed out. _I told you about this before, and as usual you've completely forgotten about it already. __**Listen**__. You're consciously applying knowledge of a body with greater mass and reach and it's skewing your depth perception, which is why you keep messing up. __**Stop thinking about it**__._

Naruto huffed impatiently. _I'm bored. Let's do something fun._

_Like I have a choice . . ._ the fox muttered.

_Why am I __**not**__ surprised?_ Sarcasm snorted.

Naruto turned to the Third. "Oi, old man! I'm bored! Can't we do something more interesting?"

The old man looked up from the scroll he had been perusing. "You've been in a coma for three weeks and your muscles have atrophied considerably. You were never particularly excited about taijutsu training before, either, but it _is_ necessary before you can learn anything further. In fact, it's more than necessary – it's _essential_. Taijutsu training will build up your stamina, which will help increase your chakra capacity."

Naruto flapped his arms. "_SNORE_! Come on, Gramps, _please_? Can't I learn just _one_ technique today?"

"Finish your exercises."

"_Then_ will you teach me something?" Naruto wheedled.

"Finish your exercises and we'll see."

Anything the Third would teach him would doubtless be a very basic E-class technique like the Kawarimi or Bunshin, but their simplicity would give him something to test his current capabilities against and the excuse to know a few more of the simpler ones without them being shown to him. It would certainly still be plenty boring for him to 'learn' the techniques, but somewhat less than kicking a training post for hours on end. Even so, he _would_ kick a post for hours on end if he could be guaranteed something that was even only slightly _less_ boring as a reward. And despite not having a parent or legal guardian always on his back as a child, over time Naruto had become aware that 'we'll see' – and 'maybe', for that matter – was generally a euphemism for 'no'. It was totally unfair for the Third to be that harsh on the first day of training, so he took measures into his own hands. He was just too _bored_. He _did_ already know the techniques, after all, and they _were_ just Academy-level.

He could cover it up.

"_Henge_!"

* * *

To be continued in . . . **Chapter 11**** – Teaching Delinquents**

Nevertheless, he did the best he could to guide his offspring in the directions of morality – as moral as ninja ever got, at any rate – and courtesy. Whenever there was an occasion to observe one of them – mainly Naruto, as he was old enough to be growing into his own person and to form his own opinions – Arashi had always been able to take pride in his son's public behavior, even if the private behavior was less than stellar. That public behavior had never failed to be consistent and enviable, and though Akiko was still a little too young to say anything polite without direct prompting, she behaved herself as well. With that kind of experience, it was understandable that Arashi liked to think that he knew his children's intentions and could count on them behaving themselves away from the influence of his immediate presence.

That belief opened him up to a host of abrupt, nasty reality checks.

* * *

**Answers To Questions You Didn't Even Know You Wanted To Ask:**

**spoTTedbuTTons** asked: _is kushina naruto's mom, and aya naruto's stepmom? because there are a couple of sections which led me here._

I'm not sure which parts might have hinted that Aya was Naruto's stepmother. She is definitely not, to be frank but clear; she is only a cook and the head of the housekeeping department. However, she could certainly be considered a "motherly" type of person in the same way that everyone seemed to consider Sandaime to be "grandfatherly".

As for Kushina, well . . . I'm getting to her. I don't know exactly **when** I'll get to her, but it shouldn't be too much longer, now that Naruto knows who his father is.

—

_**Procedural memory,**_** was the lazy response. **_**One might call it the memory of the body.**_

To be more accurate, probably **somatic** memory would be a 'memory of the body' – insofar as studying the operation of the body and the mind when completely independent from one another, as in reflexes – and procedural memory would simply be the body operating on memories that a person can't or doesn't need to consciously access.

—

_**Instincts are the six senses and the four basic emotions – happiness, sadness, anger, fear; …**_

I'm including psychic abilities as the 'sixth sense', since nine-tailed kitsune in particular are believed to gain omnipotence (absolute power and authority) **and** omniscience (absolute knowledge of everything everywhere at all times) as a reward for the acquisition of the ninth tail.

—

_**I hate dogs,**_** Kyuubi said. ; "You smell like a fox. And dogs . . ." "Don't like foxes,"**

In kitsune lore, many kitsune who take on the shape of something else – usually a human female – are ratted out by dogs, who will bark at and chase them. Foxes, therefore, will generally do everything possible to avoid dogs so as to not be discovered.

—

**" … You gave a girl dog a guy dog's name." ; " … Her name is 'White Circle'."**

_-maru_ is a suffix appended specifically to boys' names. If I remember correctly (and I may not have, so corrections are welcome) the meaning of _-maru_ is intended to be an emphasis on the name it's attached to, particularly as an exemplification of the positive qualities of the other portion of the name. There are a lot of _-maru_ names in _Naruto_ – Shikamaru, Konohamaru, Yashamaru, Orochimaru, Akamaru, Kuromaru, Kidoumaru, and possibly others I can't think of off the top of my head, I'm sure. Why did I give a female dog a male dog's name? Mainly to throw off You the Reader so that I could drop the girldog!bomb on you after already dropping the differentdog!bomb.

With the above said, _maru_ as its own word means "circle" (also "purity" and "perfection"), and my sister told me once years ago that it was popular in Japan as a cat's name because cats so often sleep curled up (my queen certainly does, though the toms have always been a bit more careless in that regard). _Shiroi_ is an adjective meaning "white", specifically in the sense of 'lacking color'. So I **have** given a female dog a male dog's name, technically, but I tweaked it in a way that's probably somewhat off from the traditional intent.

—

Related Side Note – The Forum Floor: The 'aye's have it – the _Door Number Two_/_Vis-à-Vis_ forum wins the right to exist by a vote of thirty-three to seven. Many thanks to everyone who took the time to vote! I'll try to get the rules up soon – roughly the same time this chapter is posted, I'd like to think – and then some of the topics soon after that. Please PM me with topic requests, as I will be the only one allowed to create new ones to avoid redundancies and the like.

—

It's time to play a quick game of _Draw Your Own Conclusion_! Canon!Naruto is looking for something interesting to do, and very little is more interesting than tormenting random passersby. If you are reviewing, you are not moving and therefore not passing by. Draw your own conclusion.

~RN (LS)


	11. Teaching Delinquents

**Author's Notes:** Okay, people, **the forum is active** – it's been that way since the twelfth of last month. Somebody has to be the brave one and make the first post. The topics that available right now are Creator's Corner (for asking questions and making suggestions) and General Discussion (this includes discussing both _DNT_ and _VàV_), so have at it. If you want any other topic, PM me with the request.

WARNING: Homosexual innuendoes this chapter, though it shouldn't gross anyone out too badly, if at all – I **promise** that it's **just a joke**, so please don't attempt to flay me for it.

**Word Count:** 6286 (**Total:** 62486)

**Date Submitted:** 4/9/09

* * *

**Chapter 11**** – Teaching Delinquents**

* * *

Arashi had made sure that he was present for the births of both his children. As disgusting as the events had been – he had naïvely believed that there was nothing more vile than a half-rotted corpse, but it could not be said that he never learned quickly – he would not have missed either one for anything . . . even if the trauma of seeing Naruto's meant that he spent the majority of Akiko's passed out on the bed. If nothing else Arashi had made sure he was present for all of the celebration afterward, and every day since then his life had been full to the brim with happiness from watching his children grow and explore as well as a muted horror that, in their zealous efforts _to_ grow and explore, they were apparently actively trying to kill themselves.

His stint as a jounin-sensei aside, which he felt did not really count as 'parenting' quite so much as it did 'commanding', Arashi had been a father for almost thirteen years, two of which had really tested his ability to pull the double-duty of fatherhood and desk-driving. But overall he thought he was doing fine at it and liked to think that he knew his children; especially his son, with whom he had shared almost thirteen years of life. Surely in those thirteen years – and particularly the ten in which he had been able to dedicate himself solely to the smaller blond's psychological and emotional growth – he would have learned what things Naruto liked and disliked, what kind of hobbies he had, what his future hopes were, and who he would eventually marry.

Well, maybe the marriage part was more like Daddy's Wishful Thinking than it was Son's Preference. But he was _not_ going to force Naruto to marry some girl he did not care about – for the sake of both of them – no matter how much _Arashi_ liked her. Love was important, and ultimately he wanted Naruto to be happy even if that meant he have to be a little disappointed that he did not get his fantasy fulfilled.

He nodded to himself, satisfied with that. Nevertheless, he did the best that he could to otherwise guide his offspring in the directions of morality – as moral as ninja ever got, at any rate – and courtesy. Whenever there was an occasion to observe one of them – mainly Naruto, as he was old enough to be growing into his own person and to form his own opinions – Arashi had always been able to take pride in his son's public behavior, even if the private behavior was less than stellar. That public behavior had never failed to be consistent and enviable, and though Akiko was still a little young to say anything polite without direct prompting, she behaved herself as well. With that kind of experience, it was understandable that Arashi liked to think he knew his children's intentions and could count on them behaving themselves away from the influence of his immediate presence.

That belief opened him up to a host of abrupt, nasty reality checks.

"It's not that interesting," the Third informed him from the chair that had been frantically made available for sitting. His voice was nasally and annoyed. "You needn't stare."

"What _happened_?" the blond asked in quiet horror, feeling as though he was looking at the decaying remains of a seven-carriage wreck along some little-traveled road. When his predecessor had first entered the office so long before the projected end of Naruto's carefully-planned training session, Arashi had thought that something serious had occurred, such as some kind of age-related anemia. Panicked at the concept that the Third – whom he viewed to be a surrogate grandfather in the same way everyone else did, though the man was not that old – might actually be on the verge of sudden death, he had nearly called for Rin. As it turned out, however, the old man had simply been caught off guard. By _Naruto_, who all his young life had treated the once-Hokage with the respect due to someone of such a greater age and equally greater wisdom, even if he _had_ passively resisted training at virtually every turn. "Did he . . . punch you?"

Hiruzen carefully rubbed his white handkerchief beneath his nose. The square of cotton fabric was stained red-brown with drying blood. "I would have rather had him do so."

Arashi stared even more when he heard that, mystified as to what would make his predecessor prefer being physically attacked. "Well, what did he _do_?"

The old man looked at him flatly and reported, aggrieved, "He took out myself and three ANBU all at once, without using a genjutsu, touching any of us, or even moving from his location."

Arashi's mouth fell open in disbelief. "_Excuse _me? Does that technique _exist_? And if it did, it would surely require more chakra and control than he has at this point, right?"

Hiruzen shook his head. "I doubt I can describe it accurately. You would have to see it for yourself to be able to properly appreciate the . . . _devastation_ this technique is capable of. Suffice it to say, however, that he turns into a naked woman."

Thus Arashi's portrait-perfect world vanished in smoke. Again.

"I saw that," the retired Hokage said pointedly.

"It's _not_ funny," Arashi replied shortly as he eased himself into his chair slowly and tried to avoid having any further thoughts about the _last_ time his world had fallen out from under him. At least it was not nearly as bad as it could have been. If it was a choice between seeing his son as a naked woman and seeing the boy lying half dead in a hospital gurney . . . Well, it was no contest at all. "You didn't see anything."

His predecessor gave him a significant look. ". . . It _is_ amusing. Somewhat. After all, had our guards and I been enemies he would have instantaneously reduced our numbers by eighty percent with an E-class technique. His chance of surviving the encounter for enough time to make an escape went up by at least that much."

Arashi had to concede, which he did with a faint nod. An eighty percent chance of escape was usually more than enough for any shinobi; depending on the special skills of the remaining enemy, even the greenest of the grass-green academy students could get away mostly uninjured with those odds. ". . . But why a naked woman?"

"You tell me," Hiruzen prompted.

_I __**really**_ _don't want to think about that,_ Anxiety whimpered.

He did anyway, naturally. "I always thought he took more after me," he sighed as he propped an elbow on his desk, which was covered with paper for the _n_th time. He had stopped keeping track after the first three weeks of his tenure, when he realized that much paper was the rule rather than the exception. He dropped his chin into his palm. "He was always so _serious_ when he was little; until Red made me stop, I kept asking him if I'd missed a funeral somewhere." He picked up his brush and doodled idly on the margin of a proposal for a village recreation center. "Hotaru's been trying to jolly him out of that kind of gravity for ages, but I hadn't seen much success. I suppose . . . I suppose he's just finally discovering his mama's side in himself."

The realization hurt but did not burn – a simple, bittersweet revelation. After all, he had always said that he wanted crazy little Uzumaki babies.

"He seemed very comfortable with the technique and how to behave," the Third observed. "He's had it for a while, I'd say."

The thought that Naruto might have been inflicting a naked, feminine version of himself on the prudes of the village was both mortifying and amusing. Since he had never heard complaints about such a thing – and he certainly would have remembered it – the latter of the options won over and a tiny smile pulled at Arashi's mouth. He rather hoped Naruto nailed Danzou with it; on the other hand, it was entirely possible that nothing at all would happen if he did because the senile old bastard probably had himself surgically castrated so that he would never be distracted from his search for 'power with which to protect.' Arashi snorted at that, well aware that Danzou did not have even one clue as to what _real_ power was. Arashi himself had not known for most of his life, until Naruto had turned five. He glared at the smear of papers on his desk and muttered, "Fucking prick."

"Beg your pardon?"

Arashi blinked at his predecessor. ". . . Oh! Er . . . Sorry. I was thinking of Danzou."

Hiruzen gazed at him quietly for a moment, then exchanged his handkerchief for his pipe. Calmly and with the ease of years of repetition he tapped some weed into it, lit it, puffed at it, then said, "It's natural to dislike others' ideals, but Danzou has resources that are separate from the village."

Arashi exhaled through his nose and stabbed the recreation center request with his brush. The ink bled to the documents underneath, but the blond did not care all that much – the blasted things came in triplicate anyway. "I know. Not that his resources are so departed that I can't totally shut him down in a financial sense and force him to rely on private donations . . . But his patriotism _is_ useful." He lifted his pale blue eyes to his predecessor. "I'll be careful, I promise. But I suppose I _should_ take my target off the door, in case he ever finds some need to drop in to visit me unannounced. Seeing that probably wouldn't be good for his blood pressure."

Hiruzen turned in his seat and found himself looking at some kind of custom-made door poster. It was of Danzou, of course, and had kunai and shuriken protruding from locations ANBU were specifically trained to aim for whenever performing assassinations. Arashi had never been part of the ANBU – less from a lack of skill and more from a lack of interest – but Kakashi and Obito both were and it was apparent that the blond was somehow finding time to assist them during practices. There were also a few shuriken embedded in places that were less conventional in the realm of assassination, but no less effective. Despite being Hokage for almost ten years, Arashi's aim with the steel projectiles had remained impeccable.

Painfully so, even, had the poster of Danzou been the actual man.

"Hm." The Third Hokage was careful to mask his amusement, but his successor smirked at him anyway.

"Gee," a third voice inserted abruptly, though neither Hokage so much as flinched at hearing it, "if you wanted him gone you should've just said so and Obakasan could've wiped him out ages ago."

Arashi continued to diddle with his brush. "Don't be so eager to see your brother die."

"Ha! You haven't been paying attention to him recently, have you? Dad ignored me for _two years_ to make him better. He's your best assassin and you don't even know it!"

Ice-colored eyes drifted lazily to the ceiling, where a platinum-haired ANBU was crouched. "Why do you think that because I spend so much time in my office I have no idea of what's going on out of it?"

"Because you don't," was the matter-of-fact response.

Arashi dipped his brush in the inkwell to his right. "Should I tell you, then, about the fact that you've been regaling your impressionable young associate with stories of my protective tendencies?"

"Lucky guess."

The blond flicked his wrist almost too fast to be seen, and though the dog-masked ANBU tried to duck out of the way he still ended up with a big streak of runny ink, like it was some kind of mutant tear, on the right side of his mask. The brush stuck in the silvery hair briefly, which allowed the masked shinobi to catch it before it fell on the semi-retired Hokage – because Hokage never _really_ retired – below him. Arashi scowled unconvincingly and made a dismissive motion with his newly freed hand. "Go away, child of evil and spite."

"I'll tell him," was the offer.

"Don't you tell him anything. Danzou surrounds himself with incredibly skilled people, much as it annoys me to know that. If I want him dead, I'll have to do it myself."

"You could take the old raisin," came the assurance.

"I appreciate your vote of confidence. And while I suppose I'm glad to see you even though you didn't put a bag over your head like I asked, why exactly are you here?"

"Assignment," was the response, "though I did wear my special stripping-edition uniform, if you'd rather let off some steam."

Arashi blinked, then straightened up, stretched tightly enough that his spine cracked loudly, and inhaled deeply. "Where's Dolphin?"

"Would you prefer him over me?"

"Generally. He's a little more . . . _flexible_."

"Well if you're going to be like that, I'm sure he's outside behaving himself so you'll make a booty call, the kiss ass," was the cheerful response.

"Go get him, then. And next time, mind your own damn business. The last thing I need is Obito thinking I want him knocking off my incredibly dangerous political opponents." The dog-masked ANBU vanished and a few leaves fluttered down around Hiruzen, whose expression was so solemn Arashi had to struggle to not burst into the obnoxious sort of laughter his Fire had been known for. "Sorry."

ANBU Dog reentered the office through the door, a bounce in his step, and ANBU Dolphin crept along behind him with hunched shoulders. Obviously, he had heard the innuendo that had been thrown back and forth like a bean sack and been as humiliated as he possibly could have been. Not that it was all that odd; Arashi was known for having a strange relationship with his students – particularly Kakashi and Obito, as Rin was a bit too mature to play along in most cases. Still, whenever they got bored and decided to visit him – which was often, though Arashi was almost always bored too and welcomed the distraction, regardless of how loud and vulgar it got – things would get entirely out of hand. His exchange with Dog had been downright tame compared to some of the stuff the three of them did while important people, especially if it was Danzou, were right outside the door waiting to have some sort of audience with him.

"It's his fault," Arashi said as he pointed at Dog.

"Aren't I awesome?" Dog agreed shamelessly as he leaped back onto the ceiling.

Dolphin ignored the words of both and said in a strangled tone, "You summoned me, Hokage-sama?"

"Yes." Arashi pulled open the middle left drawer of his desk and lifted a small scroll from it. "I need you take this to the daimyo."

"How quickly?"

"Not very. Dog and his boyfriend hit a rough patch in their relationship and need time apart."

Dolphin put one gloved hand to his mask in tolerant exasperation. "Yes, sir."

Dog stood up and grabbed Dolphin's shoulders. "Love me, please! I'm starved for affection!"

"_Let_. _Go_," Dolphin commanded.

Arashi tsked. "Don't jump into a new relationship so quickly, idiot." He smiled and straightened a small stack of papers to his left as he instructed, "Tease first."

Dolphin made a sound not unlike an animal dying and pleaded weakly, "Hokage-sama, _please_?"

The blond pretended to consider it. "Well, you asked nicely. I suppose I can make some space in my schedule – it should only take ten minutes. But don't be late or my stud fee doubles. I'll be in touch to arrange the date and time. In the meantime, _you_." Arashi pointed accusingly at Dog and then the Third, while Dolphin stood to the side and quietly attempted to set a speed record for Death By Mortification. "Coffee. Now."

Dog vanished again without comment, which caused more leaves to fall around the Third, who asked, "Do you think he's doing that on purpose?"

Arashi, in his effort to not laugh, let out a controlled snort that failed to fully convey how _not_ amused he was, mainly because he _was_ amused. "Doubtless." He tossed the scroll to Dolphin. "Wait for a response so I don't have to worry about one of the daimyo's messengers getting ambushed."

"Hokage-sama," Dolphin acknowledged with a sharp nod, and tucked the scroll away.

"You're team captain," Arashi told him. "If he mouths off, stab him in the face."

Dolphin sighed, but his posture had eased.

Dog reappeared with a very fine porcelain teacup and set it demurely on Arashi's desk in front of the Third. "One sugar, one cream."

"You didn't put anything stupid in there, did you?" the blond demanded, remembering the diuretic that had been slipped into his tea once. He did not _think_ that Kakashi would do something like that to someone who was not Obito or Arashi or possibly Sakumo, but there was always a chance. Arashi prayed the absurdity of putting coffee in a teacup would be enough.

Dog drew himself up, obviously offended even behind his mask. "Of course not!" Arashi frowned and he added pointedly, "I respect him."

"Oh really?" Arashi replied. "Sounds like you need to go through a nice long list of D-rank assignments to encourage you to have respect for a wider range of people."

"Boo," Dog answered, sounding entirely unconcerned – probably because it was the thousandth time the blond had made that very threat, and in every previous case he had never carried it out.

"We'll be going now, Hokage-sama," Dolphin said hastily, before the situation worsened.

"We?" Dog echoed, half offended.

"He's team captain," Arashi revealed. "Obey."

Dog's shoulders slumped, then he pointed at the blond in annoyance. "You suck hairy—"

"Don't reference your father's body so flippantly," the young Hokage interrupted. "People will think he abused you in your youth."

"He did," Dog lied easily.

"Dropping you on your head repeatedly doesn't count," Arashi shot back. "You deserved that, obviously."

Dolphin could apparently take no more of the lewd exchange, either because he was about to scream in frustration or be unprofessional and laugh, because he fled from the office with quick gestures of respect to the two Hokage present. Teacher and student looked at the vacated space and the door that was slowly swinging shut. The latter then turned to the former and said in mock horror, "I think he's building an immunity."

"If you didn't pester him all the time," Arashi pointed out, "he wouldn't be able to."

"He likes it," Dog asserted playfully.

"Get lost," the blond commanded, and Dog padded out of the office with his hands tucked into his pockets as though he was going to take a stroll through the village park. Once the door was closed again, Arashi turned to his predecessor. "I'm sorry." A pale grey brow went up and the blond added, "For real this time."

Hiruzen's only response as he set his pipe aside to cool and reached for his teacup of coffee was, "There is a reason you are considered the friendliest Hokage."

"_You're_ friendly," Arashi answered, offended on the older man's behalf, as he pulled open the slim center drawer of his desk – which he tended to treat as a cross between a food drawer and a junk drawer – and retrieved a granola bar from it. "Though fortunately," he added absently, "you're not as creepily friendly as Sensei."

"I'm not as friendly as you," Hiruzen countered without bitterness, ignoring the stab at his student, who did ultimately deserve it. "Your youth and charisma are far more attractive than my magnanimity. Many remember what you did for us and our allies in the war with Grass, and they credit you with the victory and relative lack of blood spilled before Kusagakure's surrender."

Arashi snorted, peeled the metallic wrapper from the granola bar, and bit into it a tad more viciously than circumstances required. "What do you mean, youth and charisma? Did I ever tell you about the two interrogation bureau chuunin – _chuunin_! – who both laughed at me to my face when they were told who I was? Or the academy student who wet himself when his mother introduced him to me? People like me only because they're afraid of me; my reputation precedes me considerably and they seem to think I should look like a . . . a _bear_."

Hiruzen looked away and tried to use the teacup to hide his mouth, but Arashi noticed and scowled at him anyway. Finally, the Third said diplomatically, "Anyone from Interrogation has to be a tad on the eccentric side, though perhaps Kakashi's right that you don't know everything that goes on in the village. Anyone can appreciate a devoted father."

Arashi rolled his eyes. "So he _is_ still making that mother bear comparison. Idiot."

"It's not exactly inaccurate," Hiruzen offered, to soothe his successor's visibly ruffled dignity. "You _are_ extremely protective of your children, in a way that most men – particularly shinobi – are not."

"Remind me to save a list of D-rank assignments for him. Maybe two." Arashi paused, then nodded at his thoughts. "Ten."

"Aren't you being a bit hard on him?"

"Oh, like you didn't throw Ojisan into things to keep him on his toes, old man. Natural geniuses need to be pushed hard or they get bored and end up cracked down the middle. I mean, I can deal with the boredom inherent in this job because I'm not a genius—" He looked down at his cluttered, ink-spotted desk right at that moment and completely missed the politely incredulous expression his predecessor graced him with. "—but I honestly don't know how someone like Itachi deals with his idle time. Mikoto says he's training Sasuke for a squad leader position with the military police and that's all noble and everything, but he told me that he might not return to the ANBU after Sasuke tests for the position. What the hell does he think he's going to _do_ once Sasuke doesn't need dedicated instruction anymore?"

"You should observe Sasuke's test," Hiruzen advised. "It would be good to know the standards the Uchiha are maintaining—"

"Standards so ridiculously high that _I'd_ never bother with them," Arashi muttered.

"—and if you like what you see, perhaps you should consider asking him to train Naruto as well."

Arashi inhaled sharply and a chunk of gummy granola rolled into his trachea. After he spent what felt like two and a half minutes gagging on it, he finally rescued himself and reached for the bottle of water he always kept by his feet. ". . . Pardon?" he rasped before taking a sip.

"Did I say something wrong?" the Third wondered.

Arashi pointed at him. "You did that on purpose."

"How would you know?"

"I'm telling."

"Who?"

"Don't think I don't see you wearing your Hokage robes all over the place like you're still the captain of the ship!" Arashi insisted as he slammed a hand on his desk dramatically. "This is an abuse of power!"

"Yours?"

Arashi snorted and dropped his forehead onto his desk. "Okay, okay!" he said finally. "I give, you quasi-retired despot." He sighed in defeat when his predecessor smiled. "One day," he warned. "One day I'll be able to do that stuff too, and then I'm going to _so_ lay the smack down on you, old man."

"That's what you said two years ago," Hiruzen informed him. "I'm not getting any younger."

The blond stuck his tongue out in response, but asked, "Why would you suggest that Itachi train Naruto?" He smirked and wiggled the fingers of his free hand. "Is he too much for your old bones?"

"I have been working with him for nearly three years, but Naruto and I have never managed to reach the accord necessary between a student and teacher," the Third explained. "Whether he respects me too much to feel comfortable asking questions and revealing his inexperience or whether he believes my knowledge to be outdated, his progress has been unacceptably slow. In fact, today was the first time he has ever shown the kind of initiative required to become a field ninja. Something has been keeping his skills from advancing, and so far I have not been able to discover what that is. Because of that, I have to accept that the problem might lie with me."

Arashi tilted his head. Naruto's reluctance to train and strengthen himself was not a secret among family and friends, and even the village seemed to have noticed the boy's absence from any assignments at all, let alone ones where they would have expected him to stand out. Not that Arashi knew what it was they thought Naruto knew that would set him apart from his peers. "You think Itachi could do this?"

"My presence has not helped him. A change of scenery and a new way of thinking might be precisely the need here. Itachi was part of ANBU until recently, so he is well aware of Konoha's workings. He has been training Sasuke, who is only a few months older than Naruto, and is only five years their senior himself; he would have a different method of training than I do – one that would possibly be more agreeable to your son's temperament. And if not, it might still be easier for him to root out the problem."

Arashi frowned and, as he slid his water bottle back into place at his feet, asked incredulously, ". . . Are you seriously saying you're too old?"

"My preferred method of instruction is lecture," Hiruzen said. "However, I recognize that not everyone learns best that way."

"And since Itachi is younger, you think he'll adapt better?"

"Age has done much to set me in my ways, Arashi. Being able to listen to others and accept criticism and ideas with grace is different from being able to change myself."

The blond pondered that and drummed his fingers on the desktop. ". . . All right, fine. I'll talk to Naruto and Itachi and see what they think. But I hope you'll remain available."

"Acknowledging that I might not be the best teacher hardly means I have nothing to teach."

Arashi smiled. "Thank you."

"You could let _me_ have him," a new voice interrupted. "Nice door poster, by the way."

Arashi did not even look up from the loose papers that he had begun to shuffle through. "I find it very motivational. And never in my lifetime, Sensei, will you get your hands on my child. _Children_. My lifetime which is going to be considerably longer than yours, by the way. For various reasons."

Jiraiya dropped into the room through the window and nodded at his own teacher, who quietly returned the gesture. "Why not, punk? I'm as good as you. _Better_ in many ways."

"If you could swear to me that you wouldn't go anywhere near naked or partially undressed women – or near any location in which such women congregated – I'd be more likely to consider it. My son is twelve years old, a tad cloistered, and you think he'd be able to adapt to that?"

"You—"

"_I_ spent most of my life around women," Arashi pointed out, "listening to them discuss various feminine body functions. Going on excursions with you only gave me a convenient visual aid for the things I had overheard years earlier; it did not vividly introduce me to the concept."

"All right, fine. Be an ingrate. I'll remember this the next time you need my help."

Arashi smiled absently as he pulled up a piece of paper that looked like all the others and set it just to his left. "You know I contact all the bathhouses to warn them when I know you're in town. If you deliberately revealed yourself then _you_ need _my_ help."

"I've been here for a _week_," Jiraiya sniffed.

"What I said still applies," Arashi answered coolly as he scanned the paper he had retrieved. "If you seek my genius, then _seek_ it and don't _wait_ for it – it gets lost easily and tends to cry."

Jiraiya looked at him for a long moment, a bit put out, then turned to Hiruzen, who explained, "He just sent Kakashi on assignment."

"You mean he's already warmed up and I should cut my losses," the toad sage replied with a huff. There was no answer, but he still strode over to Arashi's chair and poked the blond in the side of the head. "I wouldn't seek your genius if my ass were on fire and you knew the world's only water technique." Arashi snorted and kept his features carefully schooled so that he would not smile. "But for your information, I had lunch with the twig right before he wandered off to spy on your eldest. He says the brat's been acting strange and you're trying to decide whether you should be dismissive or panicky."

Arashi dropped his open hand onto the papers so it made a loud smacking sound and turned to look up at his teacher. "You know, I learned something very important from the Inuzuka – or rather, a couple of their dogs – when I was a chuunin. I credit it with my advancement to jounin."

Hiruzen and Jiraiya both blinked, surprised. Few credited the Inuzuka for anything beyond their tracking capabilities, and fewer still credited the Inuzuka _dogs_ at all. That Arashi did . . . well, it was just one more way that he distinguished himself as an outside-the-box thinker. "Oh?" Jiraiya prompted.

"Handle stressful situations like dogs do," Arashi explained as he returned to his desk. "If you can't eat it or play with it, just pee on it and walk away."

One pale eyebrow went up. "Is that your life philosophy?"

Arashi readily ignored his teacher's disbelief. "It's my _problem_ philosophy. If I come across something that seems to be important but doesn't do anything for me immediately, either positively or negatively, I make a mental note of it and put it aside. If I come back to it and realize I can play with it, then I will, but when I find that it's too complicated to be any fun, I'll walk away again until I get bored or have an idea."

"And that got you promoted to jounin?"

"Until now," Arashi sighed, "I only had to walk away once."

"You'll figure it out," Jiraiya assured him, sounding as though he really believed it himself. "Until then, you need me to do anything?" The blond peeked at him through a long fringe of hair, and he added, "Other than keep my distance so my creepy old man cooties don't mutate your child into a mini me?"

"Someone attacked him three weeks ago," Arashi responded quietly. "Probably another ninja. I don't know if there's any information to find, but . . ."

"I'll look into it," Jiraiya promised. Arashi nodded gratefully as he looked back and forth over his desk, but soon he began lifting the scattered papers and peeking beneath them one and two at a time. The older men observed the action for a while before Jiraiya asked, "Lose something?"

The blond frowned, scowled, and then those strangely light blue eyes popped open and he slammed his fist onto the desktop. "Kakashi, that pale little bastard! I threw my brush at him and he made off with it!" He stood up and glared down at the papers that were not going to get done that day. "Damn."

"Boo hoo," Jiraiya said unsympathetically. "You must be heartbroken."

"I need an ambulance!" Arashi exhorted theatrically, though not so loudly that one of the secretaries in the outer office actually heard him and obeyed.

"Surely there are spare brushes," Hiruzen pointed out.

That was when something supremely odd happened. Arashi seemed to go stiff and his blond locks bristled in alarm. Ice-colored eyes widened and locked onto one of the papers in front of him. After watching him for a long moment and seeing no further change, Jiraiya leaned over the desk a bit and prompted, "Any survivors?"

Arashi lifted his head sharply and smiled. "Gotcha!" he teased, but sighed at the papers again. He took the top one, glanced at it, then balled it up and threw it in the small wicker wastebasket to the right of his desk. "Build a recreation center, eh? What a mess. S'pose I'll have to have that resubmitted." He grinned at his predecessor and teacher, then stuffed his hands into his pockets like his own student had a short time before. "Maybe there _are_ some spare brushes, but if I don't know about them I can't be confined to this black hole, now can I? If you gentlemen will excuse me, I might as well go see what my son is doing and figure out where he got the material to accurately transform himself into a naked woman capable of flooring any man who gets a halfway decent look."

Of course, Jiraiya perked up instantly. "Oh?"

He must have sounded a little too curious, because Arashi stopped at the door to the office and turned to him thoughtfully. "Sensei, Obahime told me once that she cut off one of your balls for trying to peep at her in the baths. Did she really?"

"Of course not!" the tall sennin responded with a disgusted harrumph. "She must have been drunk to have been telling stories like that."

Arashi smiled brightly in answer, but his eyes were sharp with warning. "Wanna lose the other one?"

Jiraiya rolled his eyes and flapped one hand at his once-student. "Aye, aye, I get it already. No corrupting your precious child even if he seems suitably so anyway."

Arashi's final answer was a disturbingly cute little grin before he strode from the office.

There was a stretch of quiet before Jiraiya mused, "Do you think he thinks we won't look?"

"You know him better than I," Hiruzen replied calmly.

The super pervert snorted. "I've never seen a more stupid genius, unless you count his little clone as a separate entity." He went to the overflowing wastebasket – which was obviously an inadequate article for the room because no matter who was the one sitting in the plush chair behind the desk, he had never seen it in a less occupied state – and plucked out the most recent addition. He unfolded it carefully, then grabbed it top and bottom and ran it over the edge of the desk to flatten it out.

When it was as smoothed as it was going to get he looked it over, frowned to himself, and handed it to his teacher, who examined it thoughtfully – specifically the characters that had been stroked out delicately along the paper's right margin. ". . . Uzumaki Minato?"

"What were you two talking about when he wrote that?" Jiraiya asked. "Or were you present?"

Hiruzen closed his dark eyes and hummed softly as he carefully reexamined the past half hour. "We were discussing Naruto's new technique, and I recall him playing with his brush when he mentioned the boy's similarity to his mother. That would explain part of this, but what does the rest have to do with it, I wonder?" He looked up at the man who had probably been his least promising student. While Jiraiya had surely not superseded either one of his teammates in strength or cunning, he had become an inarguable force in his own right – in the same unique manner as his own student had. "Do you know of anything?"

The toad sage frowned slightly and shook his head. "Not off the top of my head." He extended his hand to collect the sheet, which he folded carefully and tucked into his clothes. "I know I'll never get anything out of the big brat if he reacted like that, and no matter what's wrong with the little brat, he obviously won't know any longer if he ever did. The only other person who would know . . . well . . ." He shrugged. "Anyway, I have some roundabout connections; I'll look into it so he doesn't come after us."

"Do you believe it's dangerous?" Hiruzen inquired as he rose slowly from his seat, mildly surprised at Jiraiya's immediate dedication to finding an answer.

"To the village? Doubtful. To Arashi? Entirely possible. And worse, it could happen at any time." Jiraiya moved toward the office door. "If Naruto _is_ involved in something dark – whether voluntarily or not – and Arashi's associating it with this name, we can't be unprepared at some critical moment if he does that catatonic thing and leaves everyone else to get flattened."

Sarutobi Hiruzen nodded in response to that logic. Such a concern was exactly the reason why he had made sure Arashi signed the proxy article in the first place, and it seemed that Jiraiya was taking his duty as one of those proxies seriously. "Orochimaru might know," he offered. Orochimaru was a proxy, too, though his usual absence from Konoha had put him low on the list.

Jiraiya made a noise of negation. "I can try, but if Arashi _did_ tell him anything he would never tell me unless Arashi had told him he could."

"Not even for Arashi's own good?"

"I can't give him enough evidence yet to convince him it's in Arashi's best interest," Jiraiya pointed out. "For having such a long tongue, not much rolls freely from it."

"True," the Third agreed. "Well, I'll leave it to you, then."

Jiraiya grinned over his shoulder in answer as he pulled open the office door, wearing an expression not too far removed from that of his once-student's. "I'm off to do some research then! See you later, Sensei!"

* * *

To be continued in . . . **Chapter 12**** – Defensive Measures**

He rewarded himself for his genius with a trip to Ichiraku Ramen and enjoyed his five bowls immensely even though he was alone; ramen always tasted better when eaten alongside friends, but he could drag them by at a later time. Indeed, the ramen was as delectable as always – it was only when he had gotten up to leave the little shop that he realized that he was being watched. _And not by ANBU, either,_ he noted slowly as he began to scan the street as naturally but as cautiously as he could. He stepped into the cramped pedestrian traffic and took a sweeping glance at the rooftops, just quickly enough to catch unhappily familiar inky black hair fluttering out of sight. _No way. I'm sure I know a lot of people with long, limp black hair._

Thinking of it that way was definitely not convincing.

_Should I correct you or let you pretend?_ Kyuubi wondered.

* * *

**Answers To Questions You Didn't Even Know You Wanted To Ask:**

**… he had naïvely believed that there was nothing more vile than a half-rotted corpse, …**

Having seen both birth and half-rotted (animal) corpses personally, I can safely say that this is a matter of personal perspective. But presumably, a male ninja in particular would be less prepared to witness birth than a kunoichi. And even if not, well . . . we all get squeamish over something.

—

**… such as some kind of age-related anemia.**

Anemia is when you don't have as many red blood cells as you should, or when the red blood cells don't have enough hemoglobin (an iron-heavy protein that transports oxygen in your body). A big symptom is fatigue, which is caused by the lack of oxygen, and it does turn up in the elderly. Excessive bleeding is also a symptom of anemia, though I didn't read anywhere that specifically indicated nosebleeds (not that this means nosebleeds aren't a sign, because the symptoms do vary). If nothing else, it can be chalked up to Arashi's apparent tendency to overindulge his imagination.

—

**Arashi had never been part of the ANBU – less from a lack of skill and more from a lack of interest …**

Presumably, you apply to join ANBU as opposed to have them vacuum you up like an unsuspecting dust bunny.

—

**Painfully so, even, had the poster of Danzou been the actual man.**

I do not like Danzou, and reading fanfiction has not helped this opinion.

—

" … **you should've just said so and Obakasan could've wiped him out ages ago."**

_Obakasan_ is another word for 'dope' or 'silly person'.

—

… **remembering the diuretic that had been slipped into his tea once.**

Diuretics make you pee. A lot.

—

"**I had lunch with the twig … "**

Where Orochimaru refers to Jiraiya as 'the oaf', so does Jiraiya refer to Orochimaru as 'the twig'.

—

"**Handle stressful situations like dogs do,"**

My aunt sent this little quasi-proverb to my family. Some of you might be familiar with it, but I had to include it.

—

"**Sensei, Obahime told me once … "**

_Oba_ means 'aunt' and is generally used by children who are speaking to a woman they do not know who is old enough to be their mother (or aunt, for that matter). _Hime_ can be used as either a standalone word, a title (_Hime-sama_), or a suffix (_Tsunade-hime_), and it means 'princess'. So Arashi is referring to Tsunade as his aunt – in the same non-blood-related way that he refers to Orochimaru as his uncle – and is also acknowledging her status as the Shodai's granddaughter.

—

**"I've never seen a more stupid genius, unless you count his little clone as a separate entity."**

I think we can all agree that the Fourth, even without a kekkei genkai, has some variety of genius. Naruto has also shown himself to be incredibly intelligent . . . in _battle_. (I wouldn't bet _beans_ on the poor dear in a social situation, though he is getting better.)

—

**" … if he does that catatonic thing … "**

Catatonia is when a person's body goes rigid and s/he is unresponsive to stimuli. It can be seen most often in those suffering from epilepsy or schizophrenia.

—

Pluggity Plug Plug: Most of us here (reading this fic, I mean) are Yondy and/or Naruto fans. If you thought that manga chapter 440 was too short and not nearly informative enough, you might like _Between Love and Hate_ – I wrote it as an expansion of chapter 440. If you read _BLaH_ ("blah"?) and happen to like it, please review and then make sure to thank **Death-God-777** for complaining to me so that I realized how unfulfilling the chapter was (I was too busy cooing at the Fourth to really care).

—

It's time to play a quick game of _Draw Your Own Conclusion_! Arashi is looking for someone who will make a nice replacement for his door poster target. If you are reviewing, then you are away from him and probably won't annoy him enough to be a viable replacement. Draw your own conclusion.

~RN (LS)


	12. Defensive Measures

**Author's Notes:** Blargh. I'm sorry this is so late. I've been debating the content of this chapter and whether or not it's up to par – as readers of _DNT_ might remember, I am not confident in my ability to write battle scenes. So I've hesitated to post because I'm not satisfied with this and it feels kind of rushed, but I don't know how to improve it. Your thoughts are appreciated. Other reasons for this lateness include the division of my time between the online class I was taking and the brief dedication to a handful of my other _Naruto_ fics, including the one I mentioned the other chapter where Naruto time-travels and a brand new one that I may never post (unless there's some interest) that's female!Kakashi-centric (like, **born** female and not just changed by a freaky technique – no pairings, though, unless you consider her unvoiced observations as an indication of such).

Anyway, here's chapter twelve in all its maybe-not-good glory, and as an apology of sorts I wrote for you a fun little _VàV_-related piece called _Shrinkage_. If it's not up by the time you've gotten here, it should be up by the time you finish reading this chapter. You don't have to read it if you don't want to; it has nothing in it you absolutely need to know and I really only wrote it in this universe because I needed an excuse for the Fourth to be alive and _DNT_/_VàV_ is convenient.

**Word Count:** 5659 (**Total:** 68145)

**Date Submitted:** 6/20/09

* * *

**Chapter 12**** – Defensive Measures**

* * *

Despite the ridiculous number of pranks that he had played when he was younger – and the few special ones with which he had occasionally terrorized the villagers as he got older, just to keep them on their toes – Naruto had only ever perpetrated them to get attention rather than for a true humor factor, even though he did laugh about them. Therefore, he had rarely pulled the type of prank that could honestly be described to anyone in a retelling of the event as 'I laughed so hard I nearly wet myself', and so did not know exactly what it felt like.

_I know now, don't I?_ he cackled as he strode through Konoha with his hands linked behind his head.

_Imbecile,_ Kyuubi sighed.

_Moron,_ Sarcasm agreed.

The memory, still fresh, wiggled into his mind and Naruto burst out laughing again, which caused several of the villagers to give him odd looks. But he could not help it; it was too funny.

The Third's reaction to his trademark Oiroke no Jutsu had not been a shock; he had used it against the old man before, after all, and knew what answer he would get. He would have been far more surprised – and at a total loss as to what to do next, considering how he had banked his whole plan of Self-Liberation From Boredom on it – had the Third _not_ responded. No, that was not surprising or even really entertaining. What had made the effort so worth it had been the trio of rustle-and-thuds he had heard and felt from the trees and shrubs behind him, out beyond the edge of the training grounds, which had been followed by a woman muttering incredulously, "Oh, for fuck's sake," which had further been followed by the same woman snarling, "_Idiot_! Wake _up_!" and the sound of a sandal hitting an armored body.

Naruto had wiped out half of his guard detail – and apparently all of the Third's – without even trying.

"_Hahahahahaha_!"

He rewarded himself for his genius with a trip to Ichiraku Ramen and enjoyed his five bowls immensely even though he was alone; ramen always tasted better when eaten alongside friends, but he could drag them by at a later time. Indeed, the ramen was as delectable as always – it was only when he had gotten up to leave the little shop that he realized that he was being watched. _And not by ANBU, either,_ he noted slowly as he began to scan the street as naturally but as cautiously as he could. He stepped into the cramped pedestrian traffic and took a sweeping glance at the rooftops, just quickly enough to catch unhappily familiar inky black hair fluttering out of sight. _No way. I'm sure I know a lot of people with long, limp black hair._

Thinking of it that way was definitely not convincing.

_Should I correct you or let you pretend?_ Kyuubi wondered.

_It'll be more fun if you pretend,_ Sarcasm decided.

Naruto debated giving chase. Theoretically, he still intimately knew every technique that he had learned in the past seventeen years. But without the chakra and the familiarity with his current body, confronting an enemy he already knew was strong – and who, right at that moment, was certainly stronger than he was – would be foolish at best and lethal otherwise. _Damn it . . ._

_You could always tell someone, such as your idiot sire,_ Kyuubi suggested with long-suffering patience, _and hear that person's thoughts._

_And I believe 'discreetly' would be the word of the day,_ Sarcasm pointed out, _if you happen to know off the top of your head what that means._

_Orochimaru could be part of what put me here, though,_ Naruto answered. _Or maybe not me specifically, but the other me who I've replaced. Even if he's running loose here in Konoha that doesn't mean he's trustworthy, or that anyone who trusts him is right. And if he's not being hunted down I'd think __**everyone**__ trusts him here, and that any who don't are keeping it to themselves. So far I haven't met anyone who's __**that**__ different from how I knew them – except Itachi, but his story was messed up to begin with – and besides, how long did Orochimaru get away with torturing people before he was found out?_

_Your beloved Sandaime was distracted by guilt,_ Kyuubi pointed out. _He suspected Orochimaru's evil but felt responsible. Your sire would presumably not be quite so stupid, particularly if the Orochimaru here is indeed as he was where we are from; by which I mean he was angry that he was not allowed the title of Yondaime. But you wouldn't want to chase Orochimaru away, either, if he's responsible for your presence. You'll at least need to get information out of him, if not find some way to . . . __**encourage**__ him to send you back._

That was true.

"Naaaaru-chaaaan!"

Kyuubi laughed as Naruto whirled. _What the—?_

Someone dressed in what appeared to be a thin black running jacket with white seams enveloped him in a tight bear hug, which squashed his head against a muscular chest and what felt like one point of a shuriken. Naruto writhed and then dropped straight down to get free. He staggered back from whoever had grabbed him and took a glance up to be sure he was not being pursued.

"Oops!" the man said, and held up his hands in supplication. "Sorry, sorry! I forgot – I didn't mean to scare you, I swear."

Naruto eyed him skeptically. The man seemed to be distinctly Uchiha-like in his facial structure and looked vaguely like Sasuke; he was at least in the vicinity of Kakashi's age and had a pair of orange-tinted work goggles hanging around his neck that were so worn he had to have owned them since his childhood. Naruto decided that the matter of the man's affiliation was clear when he caught sight of the small red and white fan on the wide off-white frame of the goggles. "Who are you?" the blond demanded shortly, annoyed to have been caught so off guard. He paused, then added, "I remember – I saw you last night."

The man nodded so enthusiastically that his short, jagged black hair bobbed. He offered a half-assed salute, his black eyes sparkling in a way that Naruto had never seen in the two Uchiha he knew. "Uchiha Obito. I'm one of your dad's students. Or I was, anyway. I'm kind of not anymore, since I'm a jounin and all, but your sensei's always your sensei, you know?"

". . . I guess," Naruto agreed. Really, he more than guessed; whether it was laziness or a subconscious confirmation that their experience was yet greater than his, he had never completely stopped referring to either Iruka or Kakashi as 'sensei'.

"And he can still totally kick my ass," Obito admitted with shameless pride, "so that means he can also still teach me stuff."

"Why are you talking to me?" Naruto asked bluntly. "I'm kind of busy."

Obito stared at him, then blinked. "Doing _what_? Standing in the middle of a crowded street, blocking traffic and trying to catch flies in your mouth?"

"Drowning," Naruto returned immediately, annoyed that his actions were being questioned when they were not having an effect on anyone else. "It's supposed to rain today, so I have to practice."

Obito snorted. "You're awful. Sensei would never forgive you if you said that in front of him."

"Then it was a tasteless joke," Naruto answered dismissively. "And he's not here anyway." In response to that, someone smacked him in the back of the head and Naruto let out an indignant yelp as he whirled around. To his dismay the Fourth was standing behind him, immensely displeased.

"Oh, I'm here all right," his father corrected.

In hindsight it occurred to Naruto that he should have realized that the Uchiha snickering in the background had only been baiting him, because that was _his_ tactic. "Hi," he greeted lamely.

"I hear you've had an exciting morning," the Fourth noted, far too flatly for comfort.

Naruto grimaced and looked away as he offered, "Probably more exciting for others than myself . . ."

"We need to talk," his father decided, and Naruto cringed. He was familiar with that particular tone thanks to Iruka, and it had never meant anything good. He should have thought through his Self-Liberation From Boredom plan better. "_Now_."

_Ouch. Bastard fox, save me!_

_Hell no,_ Kyuubi guffawed. _Suffer!_

The Fourth's expression became severe. "_Na_—"

"_DROP_!" a new voice barked, and the Hokage grabbed Naruto and twisted sharply downward without even the briefest hesitation.

A second later Naruto found himself effectively folded into a rather neat ball, his head pinned between his father's knees and chest and unable to move. It was difficult to breathe, but not impossible. ". . . Dad?" he mumbled into the older blond's pant leg. He flinched instinctively at a ringing clatter of metal striking metal; by the frequency of the sound Naruto deduced that the weapon being used was senbon, but that told him very little about who could have been attacking.

In response to his motion and the sudden hysteria of the surrounding civilians, the Fourth tightened his grip and murmured into Naruto's hair, "Shh, it'll be all right. Just be still."

"Fucking coward!" Obito shouted, infuriated, and his voice grew quieter by degrees as he presumably gave chase to whoever had attacked. "_Get back here_!"

"Be careful, idiot!" the new voice called. There was the scrape of a sandal sole on the packed-down street and the voice continued, "The path's clear for now, Hokage-sama. Please hurry."

"Thank you, Sakumo-san," the Fourth said calmly. He straightened abruptly and lifted Naruto off his feet. "Let's go, Naruto."

Under other circumstances Naruto might have protested being carried like he was a five-year-old, but right then he was so startled that all he could think about was getting more information. It had been a long time since he had been protected like that; only Iruka, Sasuke, and Hinata had ever offered up their own lives for him in that way, and the lattermost of those had been the previous year, the next four years earlier, and the former had been five. Any other occasion he had essentially been left to himself mainly because of the healing abilities the kyuubi's presence allowed him, and being out in the open had allowed him acquire all of the information he wanted for a fight. He was not at all used to being kept in the dark in a battle situation. "W . . . What happened?"

"Quiet," the Fourth commanded, softly but firmly. "Just be still."

Naruto hooked his right arm around his father's neck and peeked cautiously over the older blond's shoulder for pursuers as he reached into his pocket with his left hand for a kunai and a handful of shuriken.

"Both arms," the Fourth instructed, so Naruto obediently looped his left arm around his father's neck as well. A moment later, father asked son, "Are you holding _weapons_?"

"Gotta watch your back, oyaji," Naruto told him matter-of-factly.

"Don't do anything stupid," the Fourth ordered.

There were a quartet of ANBU Naruto could see – obviously, the pair meant to guard the Fourth and the pair meant to guard Naruto, the same ones he had temporarily immobilized with his Oiroke no Jutsu that morning – so there was no need for him to 'do anything stupid'.

Yet, anyway.

There was no way to know how long it took Naruto to spot it – or him, presumably – as the person had been utilizing some kind of invisibility technique to remain unseen. The only reason Naruto had noticed at all was because the invisible shinobi had dropped from the cloudless blue sky to a roof on which a wildly-patterned blanket had been left hanging to dry and he had seen the colors waver like rising heat on the otherwise cool, still day. And in the same way that Naruto was not used to being protected, he was not used to _not_ being part of a team, so his first response to spotting the enemy ninja was to strike out with anything he had in hand and defend the members of his team who had their backs to the trailing foe. Never mind that his 'teammates' were all ANBU and probably aware of the intruding shinobi but had not been hurrying to attack when no attack was being offered to begin with.

The four shuriken flew out first, and one of the ANBU barely ducked in time to avoid getting cracked in the face with one. Naruto followed them with his kunai and wished he had enough chakra to create an army of shadow clones. A Shihouhappou Shuriken would have done nicely as a time-buyer, at the very least. He frowned unhappily as the shuriken were cleanly evaded and the kunai deflected with something else metal, likely another kunai; clearly, he had been too far away.

The force of Naruto's two throws caused the Fourth's balance to tip in mid-air, and he did not allow it to go unnoticed. "Wh—? Naruto!" He twisted sharply to complete a rotation and touched down on a roof a bit short of the one he had been intending to land on. "Naruto, what are you _doing_?"

"There's someone there!" he insisted.

"Of course there is!" his father snapped shortly. "Who do you think we're running from?"

". . . Running?" That was too much. Uzumaki Naruto absolutely did _not_ run. "Dad, it's just that one guy! We can totally take him!"

"_You_ are not 'taking' anyone!" the Fourth barked, sounding frustrated. More softly but no less sharply, he added, "We were trying to trap him, but now he knows that we know he's there!"

_Oops,_ Sarcasm snickered.

_Shut up,_ Naruto snarled.

_I didn't say anything,_ Kyuubi grumbled.

_I wasn't talking to you,_ Naruto hissed.

_I'm getting __**quite**__ tired of this 'other voice' that you're hinting at having, brat,_ the fox growled. _I'm the only one here, as you are never adequate company no matter the circumstances, so stop aggravating me._

_It's my insecurity, you ignorant fuck,_ Naruto spat. _You can't hear it because it has nothing to do with you, which is the way I prefer it._ That was a lie, of course, but there was no reason to give the kitsune any other reason to nag at him. _Now __**go away**__._

"_Naruto_?" The Fourth sounded worried, and Naruto figured that it was probably because he had zoned out to talk to the kyuubi.

He would have to work on it, he recalled, exasperated that he would have to excuse it again. "I'm fine, Dad. And I'm sorry. I didn't mean to screw everything up."

_Like __**always**__?_ Sarcasm cackled.

Naruto ignored it.

The Fourth sighed. "It's okay, really. It's not that big a setback. We'll just have to do something else."

Naruto did not miss his father's hesitant tone. "Like what?"

The older blond sighed. "It'll be dangerous, but we need to discover what this is about. To do that we need _him_. If he's invisible then he's after me and trying to even the playing field a little by forcing me to track him with something other than my eyes. So I'm going to set you down and I want you to run to the house. I'll have to send the ANBU away to draw him in, and that'll leave you unprotected for a minute or so. But he's not with anyone, so that works in our favor."

"But I can _help_!" Naruto protested.

"This is an _assassin_ we're dealing with, Naruto," the Fourth reminded him. "He's at _least_ jounin-level. I'm sure you'll hate hearing this, but the best way you can help is by getting the hell out of here."

"But—"

"All _right_?" his father demanded.

_Just agree already,_ Kyuubi interjected with a sigh. _You're wasting time and breath arguing with him. And he's right anyway._

Naruto scowled, annoyed, and muttered grudgingly, "'Kay."

"Thank you," the Fourth said, and his voice held relief. "Get ready."

They touched down and the two blonds separated; the Fourth veered away to hurry deeper into the roofs of the village while Naruto continued toward the Monument and home and plotted on helping from a distance. The four ANBU vanished in roughly the same directions as their charges, but Naruto knew they were hiding and looking for an opportunity to grab the disguised shinobi. No one was watching his back – at least not closely enough to support him sufficiently. To make sure he covered everything, therefore, Naruto sought for the enemy's presence, expecting it to be distant, and ducked a split second before his head would have been lopped off.

Though in possession of weapons, Naruto was in too close quarters to have time to retrieve them. So he pivoted abruptly on the ball of his left foot and brought his right fist up into what he hoped was the assassin's stomach. To his dark delight, the invisible clothed flesh he contacted gave instantly beneath the force of his strike and the owner of it let out a loud grunt as his forward motion was halted. Naruto hopped to the side to avoid any retaliation and kept his eyes on the wavering air in front of him, only to be forced to duck again as _another_ invisible assassin tried to chop off his head. Except that when that failed, the assassin apparently came back quickly and sliced a line from his left hip all the way up to his right shoulder. Naruto had intended to respond with an elbow to the gut – which was always a good target, honestly – but a familiar howl reached his ears and without even really thinking about it he twirled away to his left and knelt as close to the roof as he could without putting himself in a completely disadvantageous position.

The Fourth shot past, overcoat fluttering, and jammed his rasengan into the air in the general vicinity of the second assassin. His aim was true enough; the enemy ninja, still invisible, cried out in agony as his flesh was twisted and ripped open. Naruto flinched when a few flecks of blood hit his face, but he did not look up until the rushing air was still again and his father knelt in front of him and called softly, "Naruto?"

Naruto lifted his head and took in the far greater amount of blood that had been sprayed across the older blond's face, then reached in his pocket and drew out one of the flimsy paper napkins he had nipped from Ichiraku. He usually did that – just carried one or two off whenever he left the ramen stand – in case he needed them later to help clean up a spill in his apartment or just to keep his face clean during assignments. It would not do to have food drying on his sleeve or something while he attempted to go undetected, after all, and the napkins themselves were so thin they could be soaked, torn, and then flung to the wind if necessary. In the current case, though, he simply used it to wipe the blood off his father's skin. He did not like to see the stuff there; the idea that it might have been present during the kyuubi's sealing was an uncomfortable one.

The Fourth blinked, then made a faintly amused noise before instructing, "Turn around." He did not give Naruto the opportunity to protest, just swung the smaller blond in a circle and took a look at his back. He sucked in a breath through his teeth.

Naruto translated that as a noise of alarm and looked over his shoulder. "It's okay. It doesn't really hurt that bad – just burns. I won't bleed to death or anything."

The ANBU had finished tying up the first assassin – Naruto did not know if there was enough of the second one available with which to do the same – and had taken up a four-corners formation. The Fourth looked up at them and said in a strangled tone, "I think there was an anticoagulant on the blade."

Immediately, the ANBU to Naruto's right reached into a pouch and retrieved a small syringe filled with a pale bluish liquid, which he – or she, rather, taking into account the slimness of the gloved hand – stabbed into his shoulder. His response was equally immediate.

"_OW_!" he yelled at the top of his lungs, and threw his left hand up over the injection site. "What the hell? Couldn't you have given me ten seconds to get ready?" There was no response from anyone until he added in a sullen growl, "Bitch."

The ANBU looked at him for a long moment, then behind him to the Fourth, who said in soft exasperation, "Yes." With permission given, the ANBU smacked Naruto hard in the head, though not hard enough to do him any notable harm.

"Ow," he muttered.

It was then that the ANBU bent down to be level with him. Naruto lifted an eyebrow at the subtle challenge and leaned in himself to glare back at her. He had not needed a shot for any reason, whether or not there had been an anticoagulant on the enemy's weapon, and resented their decision to treat it in a place that was totally exposed to the other enemies he could hear engaged in battle with Konoha shinobi. Anticoagulants did not work all that fast; unlike pure venoms, which were active destroyers and generally wiped out everything regardless of what the target actually was, anticoagulants had to specifically infect and inhibit blood cells. As a result, they could only move as quickly as the blood flowed, and even if he had been in a panic the wound was not deep. They could have gotten him indoors or in the trees where they all would have been safer. They all should have known that, and it seemed stupid to stay right where they were when nothing was stopping them from moving.

"Enough, Naruto," the Fourth ordered.

So Naruto did what came naturally when he felt he was being treated unjustly – he pranked. With a speed that Gamabunta would have been proud of, Naruto flicked his tongue out and licked a line straight up the ANBU's mask. She, understandably, recoiled in surprise at the action. Naruto, imaginative enough to envision her expression without actually seeing it, collapsed into uncharacteristic giggles. It must have been the adrenaline.

"What the . . .?" one of the male ANBU murmured.

Naruto felt his father's hand grasp his head warningly and turned, "Dad, I'm _o-kay_, all right? That's what I said before! Now shouldn't we be mov—?" The Fourth suddenly collected him and leaped away from the roof with the ANBU right behind. Naruto squeaked in his surprise and looked at the roof; a senbon with an exploding tag was buried in the shingles where the Fourth had been. It exploded and sent a harsh blast of heat into the already burning slice wound, which caused Naruto to arch his back and hiss involuntarily.

"Naruto?" his father demanded worriedly.

"It's just hot," Naruto assured him as the pain faded.

It did not take long to get home, and while Naruto was figuring out how he was going to get his sandals off with his injury the way it was, the Fourth simply stepped onto the wooden floor with his sandals still on and began glancing into each of the rooms he passed as he made his way to the kitchen. "Aya!"

The matronly cook turned toward him. "Aye, Hokage-sama?"

"There are enemy shinobi running loose in the village," he told her in a rush as he entered the kitchen and cut off the range for her to save time. "They seemed to be after Naruto, but they could be after me or anyone close to us. Gather the girls in the pantry and keep them there until I come back."

"Certainly, Hokage-sama," Aya promised, and she swept out of the room without further ado. Naruto could hear her striding purposefully down the nearer hallway, clapping her hands twice every so often and calmly calling for the housekeepers to join her. "No questions, dear," she told someone politely but firmly. "This is the most recent order from Hokage-sama, so it supersedes whatever you were told this morning. Don't worry – I'll be taking full responsibility for your tasks, as always."

The Fourth set Naruto down, but kept hold of the younger blond's hand so he would not wander off. Naruto resented the idea that he was so young he needed his hand to be held, but the way that he was being dragged around changed his mind. Obviously, his father did not have to focus any of his attention on Naruto's exact whereabouts if there was a tangible connection between them instead; by holding Naruto's hand, the Fourth was able to dedicate his thoughts to directing the ANBU and nearby jounin in hunting down the other invading shinobi, all of whom were presumably invisible like the assassins had been. So rather than protest Naruto hurried his steps and tagged along in silence, watching his father's face morph into that of a hardened shinobi.

He was impressed by the change. _Do I look like that when I'm pissed off?_

Kyuubi snorted and answered, _You should hope that I find that you bear far more of a resemblance to your dam, idiot. The more you look like __**him**__, the more I want to peel the flesh from your head._

Naruto snorted. _I can't help the way I look._

_You could run a cheese grater over your face a few times,_ was the unmoved retort. _That in itself would be a major improvement as far as I'm concerned._

"Hokage-sama?" Hitomi rushed along the hallway toward them, a cheerily oblivious Akiko bouncing in her arms. "Hokage-sama, Aya-san said you wanted to see me . . .?"

The Fourth blinked, apparently startled by the statement. "Well, no, not exactly. But since you're here . . ." He held out his and Naruto's joined hands. "I need you to take Akiko and Naruto to the pantry and _keep_ them there. Especially Naruto – he's hurt."

Naruto did _not_ want to be left behind and he _hated_ being dismissed without even being consulted about _his_ condition. He would always tell the truth about it – or at least not exaggerate things badly – because outright lying would likely get his teammates hurt if they relied on him beyond what he was actually capable of handling. Still, the slice wound on his back had reduced in pain to the point that it only burned if he turned too sharply; he was plenty tough, though, and could both account and compensate for it without even a moment's hesitation.

"I can help!" he insisted with surprising petulance.

"You can help by going with Hitomi quietly and then not sneaking away from her," the Fourth replied.

Naruto was caught off guard by the accuracy of his father's prediction, still unaware of how parents learned to 'read' their children by examining past events and behaviors. ". . . But . . .!"

His father bent down a bit and grasped his shoulders, the right one a bit more gently than the left. "Naruto, you're _hurt_. I recognize that it's not a deep wound and I'm sure you don't feel all that bad right now. But there was an anticoagulant on that blade. I know the ANBU countered it, but not all toxins and antidotes work perfectly with each other and what you were given may only be temporary. What if you went out there, helped me to capture those assassins, and then bled to death when the antidote failed?" Naruto rolled his eyes at the drama. "At the very least," the Fourth said, "you could pass out from low blood pressure, and where would that leave us?"

Naruto doubted that, but ordered Kyuubi, _Heal my back so I can show him I'll be fine._

_Like hell,_ the fox responded lazily. _I'd like to live as long as possible, thanks. Heal naturally._

_Just do what you're told, you nobody,_ Sarcasm sniffed.

Naruto scowled up at his father, who frowned back unrelentingly, and finally caved. ". . . _Fine_ . . ."

His father let out a sigh and kissed his head. "Thank you. Help Hitomi keep an eye on Akiko, all right?"

"'Kay," he mumbled, as petulantly as before.

"Hitomi," the Fourth said suddenly, "where's Hotaru?"

"She . . . She went out," Hitomi answered, her worry renewed. "For tea with some of the merchants' wives. I don't know where that is . . ."

The Fourth ran the fingers of one hand into his hair. ". . . Shit . . ."

"Shit!" Akiko chirped, oblivious to the urgency of the situation.

"_Don't_ repeat that!" her father ordered swiftly. "Your mother will have my head . . ." He shook his head and waved dismissively at Hitomi. "All right, thank you."

He turned and headed in the general direction of the front door. Hitomi shifted Akiko's weight and grabbed Naruto's hand. "Come along, Naruto-sama. Hurry."

He followed reluctantly, his eyes on the floor.

A bedroom window nearby abruptly shattered. Hitomi screamed reflexively and whirled toward the sound.

"What?" Akiko asked, confused.

"_RUN_!" Naruto barked, and shoved Hitomi at the kitchen while simultaneously wrenching his hand free of her grasp. He retrieved a kunai and waited in the middle of the hall, trying to pick out the soft _tak_ of sandaled feet on the wood floor while Hitomi shrieked for help in the background. He heard three such steps, spotted the waver of the walls, and realized that the invader had been positioned dead-center of the hall and therefore determined that he was, fortunately, deemed to be a more suitable target than the hysterical twenty-something behind him who was burdened with a bewildered two-year-old.

He lifted his kunai blindly and, in a spectacular display of the sort of sheer luck he had been graced with in his life, managed to deflect the intruder's initial attack. He was unprepared for the second one, though, and let out an involuntary shout of pain when what felt like a kunai pierced his right deltoid. The pain radiated to the slice wound on his back and set that one aching again as well. His right arm was rendered useless and his kunai fell to the floor; as the kunai in his arm wiggled – either to torment him or to be removed – he rapidly retrieved another of his own with his left hand and thrust it forward desperately, hoping his assailant would not realize he was smart enough to pick out the distortion the invisibility technique caused and step aside. Naruto really did not have the power for more than a single swing in his condition, and since his new body was soft and untested his threshold for pain was low too. He could knock himself unconscious if he moved too sharply.

_Alas,_ Kyuubi mused disinterestedly as the warping area shifted and Naruto's kunai slid through empty air.

_You're not helping,_ Naruto snarled.

_May I remind you that I'm not the one who was so prideful that I wanted to do things without utilizing my chakra?_ the fox queried loftily. _And thanks to your asinine sire, there's no other way I can 'help'._

Naruto's breath caught as he was blindsided by a punch to the gut that was so hard it actually tossed him up the hall a bit, and the same breath rushed out as a startled cough when he hit the floor. He tried to get onto his feet, but with the wind knocked out of him his vision was dark and star-speckled and he could not inhale; the sensation of his lungs collapsing with each attempt induced a vaguely animalistic panic. At what seemed to be the last possible second before unconsciousness he gasped a long breath and turned to see the distortion of the invisibility technique curled overhead. He was cornered.

_Alas,_ Kyuubi said again, still somehow completely unconcerned.

_Aw,__** shit**__,_ he sighed. _Now what am I supposed to do?_

_Daddy!_ Sarcasm squealed. _Help!_

Naruto rolled his eyes. _Pussy._

That achieved a response from the kitsune, who asked ominously, _Beg your pardon?_

_Not__** you**__,_ Naruto sighed again, even more exasperated. It was more than a little bit ridiculous that he was arguing right before he was going to die. _Unless you're going to call for help too._

_I_ _am the great Demon Kyuubi,_ the fox sniffed, _the supreme king of the bijuu. I __**never**__ need help, and even if I did I'd never stoop so low as to call on a __**mortal**__ for assistance._

_Then __**do**__ something!_

There was no response.

A hand grabbed the collar of Naruto's jacket and lifted him too high off the floor for his knees to support him, but not high enough for him to stand properly. Naruto grabbed the arm holding him and tried to break free, but dividing his attention between not choking to death and not getting stabbed without warning was taxing. Finally, an instant before he felt that he was going to be struck, he tried one last desperate thrash to escape. It was weak, though, and ultimately pointless. His ears caught the howl of a newborn rasengan, but it was far away; it was impossible for his father to get to him in time.

_Eh, there are worse ways to die,_ he decided philosophically.

_It's nice to know that when you're tired you'll definitely give up at the very last minute, regardless of what chance you have to live when there's an ally not fifty feet away,_ Kyuubi snorted.

_Maybe you'll get your ass in gear and heal me this time,_ the blond shot back.

_We'll see,_ the fox returned shrewdly. _Trust in your blood._

When no explanation was forthcoming, Naruto muttered mostly to himself, _Whatever that means . . ._

There was a surge of power and a bright flare of white light, and he knew that everything was over at last.

* * *

To be continued in . . . **Chapter 13**** – Waiting Game**

"Arrogant pricks die for _nothing_!" Sakumo snapped. "Do you think Kakashi would be _comforted_ by your 'bravery' if you were killed? Besides, Yondaime-sama needed you with him – Naruto was targeted!"

Obito turned, shocked. "Wh . . . Not again! In broad daylight?" He looked at Naruto and demanded, "Who the hell did you piss off, kid?"

It was a good question, and Naruto wished he knew the answer. Then he would actually have somewhere to start to fix things and get out of dodge before he got used to it.

* * *

**Answers To Questions You Didn't Even Know You Wanted To Ask:**

All right, well, this isn't quite the 'action' I had in mind when I mentioned it to some of you – the 'action' I had originally planned for involved Naruto, Orochimaru, Obito, and some random enemy shinobi. Unfortunately for you all, I thought about it and thought about it and thought about it, and at the last minute I remembered something I'd wanted to do with Naruto and Orochimaru **before** having them meet face-to-face, **plus** the way I started writing that 'action' part didn't come out right. So it's getting pushed back at least another chapter, and for that I apologize. On the other hand, I still expect to do it soon; in the meantime I hope that what happened in this chapter, small as it was, will sate your appetite for a bit.

—

**confusedasHELL asks: **_from which world (original and the parallel one)used the name Namikaze and Uzumaki as the clan name? is Arashi called Namikaze or Uzumaki? which is which? can you provide me with an answer please?_

Well, the first portion of the question is a bit confusing itself, seeing as it's a fragment – so please correct me if I'm wrong – but I think I understand that this references the "Uzumaki Minato" from chapter eleven. Several people have asked about this already, but it's not supposed to make perfect sense right at this moment so don't let it bother you too much. The answer – what of it I can give – is as follows:

We all know that canon!Naruto's full name is Uzumaki Naruto and that his surname came from his mother (Uzumaki Kushina) instead of his father (Namikaze Minato), who was the Yondaime Hokage. In chapter one of _VàV_, Naruto (obviously parallel!Naruto) identifies himself specifically as "Namikaze Naruto". Presumably, then, since Arashi is the Yondaime Hokage and is noted in chapter two as being similar in appearance to Naruto, his surname is Namikaze as well. However, I confirm that he wrote "Uzumaki Minato" on the paper; this is an intentional inclusion I made. Unfortunately, I can't explain why until I actually get to it in the fic.

—

**"Gotta watch your back, oyaji,"**

_Oyaji_ is a term for a father or a fatherly figure (or a boss, it seems), or just a middle-aged man in general. But it's not exactly polite; it's a good term for Naruto to use, since he's hardly polite himself.

—

**A Shihouhappou Shuriken would have done nicely …**

"Shuriken From All Directions". I believe Naruto used this for the first time in battle against the half-transformed Gaara during the chuunin exam arc.

—

**"I think there was an anticoagulant on the blade."**

Anticoagulants prevent blood from clotting and could cause death if the wound is not immediately seen to. Hemophiliacs naturally lack the proteins – factor VIII (or IX, depending on the type) – that tell the blood to clot, and if such people are injured badly enough or have severe hemophilia it's possible for them to bleed to death from a cut most people would clean off and stick a band-aid over. Leeches (and vampire bats, if I recall) naturally produce anticoagulants so that they can feed unhindered. In medical situations, leeches can be used to prevent potentially dangerous or otherwise inhibiting blood clots from forming particularly in microsurgery cases, such as ear surgery (a lack of blood flow prevents healing and causes tissue death, and a clot could cause a stroke or heart attack).

—

**Anticoagulants did not work all that fast; unlike venoms … anticoagulants had to specifically infect and inhibit blood cells. As a result, they could only move as quickly as the blood flowed, and even if he had been in a panic the wound was not deep.**

This is essentially true; I couldn't find much research for anything more than hemophilia and anticoagulant drugs, which prevent new clots from forming and existing clots from growing but don't dissolve existing clots. There is, of course, anticoagulant in snake venom which in laboratory settings can be separated from the rest of it, and in those cases it was noted that for the different forms of anticoagulant to work, the tissue(s) they were attacking had to be receptive to one or more of those forms. Presumably, then, a non-compatible tissue would either resist or prevent (and therefore slow) the anticoagulation process, and any compatible tissues would have to be found before they could be affected. So, in the case of a person whose blood clots normally, an introduced anticoagulant would likely not begin bleeding profusely right away. But I admit I may have made the wrong deductions; I did well in biology, but the earth sciences are more my thing.

—

_**Alas,**_** Kyuubi mused disinterestedly …**

"…nine sickles, and a dungbomb."

I'm sorry – I had to. I didn't write it with the intention of making a joke out of it, but I wrote it and it reminded me. If you don't get it, it's no big deal. I just mentioned it for anyone who might.

—

**… what felt like a kunai pierced his right deltoid.**

The deltoids are the upside-down triangular-ish muscles that connect your shoulders to your arms. Unless you work out you probably can't see them, but they're there. If you want to know what they look like, I **think** you can see Kakashi's when he's recovering after Itachi's attack, and now that I'm thinking about it you can probably get a pretty good look at Zabuza's. For other examples, watch _Advent Children_ (Cloud's aren't very defined, but you'll see them if you're looking for them) or _Dragonball Z_ (when Goku buffs up) or _FullMetal Alchemist_ (anytime Major Armstrong takes off the top half of his uniform).

—

**He tried to get to his feet, but with the wind knocked out of him his vision was dark and star-speckled and he could not inhale …**

I have experienced this personally. It is not fun.

—

Under standard circumstances I don't share pointless "reviews" because it's not a big deal or I wouldn't have posted online in the first place, but I had to this time because it had a couple of issues pointed out to me by others and I figured that I might as well address them. Also, these reviews were just **odd**. Along with a needless dose of character bashing, I was accused of using overdone pairings, and though at this point I would normally just say that I dislike crack pairings because they're often not written well and be done with it, except that I was also accused of **writing a fic containing straight people**. Now, I have nothing against homosexuality or fics containing it (as one could tell simply from scanning my favorite stories list), but seriously, I never **imagined** I would be picked at for something so **stupid**. If you have a minute to spare, I advise you to go to Creator's Corner: Review Edition in my Doorways forum and read these reviews.

—

It's time to play a quick game of _Draw Your Own Conclusion_! Naruto needs someone to rub salve on his back injury. If you review, he'll know you love him. Draw your own conclusion.

~RN (LS)


	13. Waiting Game

**Author's Notes:** *headdesk* I give up. I apologize deeply while offering myself up for ritual sacrifice, because I am clearly a complete bitch, and none of you can do anything to stop it. If, ever again, I say, "Oh, it'll only be a couple of weeks," assume that it's a lie. Because apparently, the only way _Vis-à-Vis_ chapters are going to be posted here any more frequently than after the passage of six eons is if I can get this ship back to a point where I can start reconnecting with _Door Number Two_. Not to say that everything in _VàV_ up to this point hasn't been necessary, because it is, but it's obviously not sticking as close to _DNT_ as I originally intended it to, and it may be as late as chapter twenty before it starts meandering back to the trail. Your patience in the meantime is worshipped. (And, by the way, I haven't forgotten about _Shrinkage_. That's next on the list.)

I also blame this failure on the Doctor, who for some reason has to be so damn write-able despite not bothering to tell people anything about anything else unless it's an edge-of-the-cliff, life-or-death situation. Oh, if I only knew Venusian aikido then I'd hit him square in the face with a cricket bat. *shakes fist*

**Word Count:** 6166 (**Total:** 74311)

**Date Submitted:** 10/19/09

* * *

**Chapter 13**** – Waiting Game**

* * *

". . . Naruto? . . . _Naruto_? . . . Wake up, Little Fox, come on . . ."

The first thing Naruto remembered was that he had been about to get killed. He did not hurt as much as he had before, so he felt less helpless, and he responded to it by writhing. And, unfortunately, bringing the pain back. He opened his eyes but could not see through the bright light shining into them, and though he twisted, whoever was holding him had him gripped too firmly for him to break free. For an instant he panicked, but in the next moment his Kyuubi-enhanced nose caught his father's scent and in the silence he realized that the immediate threat had been neutralized somehow.

". . . Dad . . .?" he called hoarsely, vaguely startled to realize that he had memorized that scent so quickly.

The light vanished, leaving only darkness. "I'm afraid he hasn't gotten back yet, Naruto," said a male voice that was not the Fourth's and which he did not recognize. "But you're safe."

'Safe' was a relative term, but Naruto did not bother to argue the point. He was more curious as to why he was able to smell his father if the man was not present for the scent to be as strong as it was.

His eyes adjusted to the encompassing darkness finally, so he took a look around. There were more than a dozen people in the dimly-lit room; most of them were girls who took care of the house, but there was also a quartet of ANBU who were loitering watchfully by a door. Sacks of rice and unmarked crates were stacked discretely, and one wall had a floor-to-ceiling case of inset shelves which were packed with innumerable glass jars full of what looked like fruits and vegetables. He deduced that he was in the pantry, where everyone was supposed to have been headed and had clearly gathered.

"I heard his voice . . ." Naruto murmured, not really expecting a response. He rolled onto his side and saw that he was lying on a few columns of rice; the tightly-woven burlap bags provided a supportive, if itchy, bed. The reason for the strength of the elder blond's scent became clear then, when he discovered that his father's signature overcoat had been draped across him. ". . . Where did he go?"

"He went to organize things outside," was the response. "Don't get up if you feel even a bit dizzy – there's no danger here."

"You think?" Naruto prompted, dubious.

"There are four ANBU, myself, a small and darkened room, and only one path of entry that doesn't require the use of chakra," came the explanation. "Chakra-based attacks could be sensed and fended off, and the number of shinobi required to act in a more subtle and usually successful fashion would fill this room to the point where no one could breathe, let alone draw a weapon."

"What about enemy ANBU?"

"Nothing more than a four-man squad is ever assigned for any political assassination – too many chefs and all that. They'll stay outside because that's where the Hokage is, and therefore where they're needed."

Naruto frowned at the ANBU by the door as he slid off the rice sacks and tested his sense of balance. His father had probably ordered them to stay behind and though every one of the ANBU in the village – on duty or not – would be out and about, it was a little worrisome that not all of them were actually with the older blond. _Except that a political assassination doesn't make sense._

_Not when your sire is a superior target,_ Kyuubi agreed. _They had the element of surprise and, apparently, the advantage of immediate numbers. Pretending that you were the only target was an admirable introductory ploy, but they would have quickly turned on him once they had drawn him in. While I'm loath to agree with anything that fool says, I believe your sire was correct in his observation that they seemed to be after you. Something as simple as a political assassination is unlikely. By the way, congratulations – you're still alive._

_Damn,_ Sarcasm spat.

Before Naruto could give voice to any of Kyuubi's ruminations there was an odd knock on the door – a pattern. One of the ANBU gave a response, also a pattern, and from outside came a third. The ANBU moved to open the door while another positioned himself right in what would be the door's opening so that nothing could slip past, and whatever was exchanged allowed the outsider in after just a few seconds.

"Why's it so dark in here?" Obito demanded once the door was shut. "Surely lights aren't forbidden . . ."

"Shut up," the female ANBU hissed. "The idea is to _not_ be found!"

"We're _fine_," Obito snapped as he fiddled with what looked like a flare. "I already told you."

"You've been wrong before," a second ANBU noted.

Obito turned sharply. "Under _serious_ circumstances?"

"Quit fighting," the stranger by Naruto commanded, and the beam of a flashlight lit the floor nearby before sliding to the door and striking a pair of heavy-looking black boots. "I have a light here, Obito; don't play indoors with that thing."

There was no response from the ANBU, but Obito lifted his left leg and shoved the flare into a pocket that was apparently low on his pants, then moved deeper into the pantry with a growled, "Fuckin' rookies."

"Easy," the man warned.

Akiko giggled and began to say, "Fu—" but was soon far more interested in the second word, which she had misheard. "Cookies?"

"After supper, gorgeous," Obito promised absently as he followed the circle of light back to its source.

Naruto had not paid attention the first time, but he suddenly understood how dangerous Obito could have been – and probably was, since he had not only been the Fourth's student but seemed to be part of ANBU on top of it. In the isolated light, the jounin was wearing a pair of khaki cargo pants that were at first glance somewhat on the cumbersome side, being a bit baggy, but they were also covered in large pockets and random vertical, horizontal, and diagonal zippers that may or may not have been meant to do more than baffle an observer; the pants were also just loose enough to hide the sort of large weapons that most ninja would have to carry in a backpack and therefore not have easy access to. For all of his weird behavior he was obviously no idiot, and his derision toward the ANBU made a little more sense than a mere competitiveness or worse, a swollen ego.

"Did you happen to bring your last few brain cells along with you this time?" the stranger who had stayed with Naruto demanded angrily, and smacked Obito in the back of the head once the Uchiha was within reach. "Do _not_ do that again."

"I said it was _fine_!" Obito protested loudly as he rubbed the spot he had been hit, sounding every bit like a petulant six-year-old. "Yeesh . . ."

"Arrogant pricks die for _nothing_!" the man snapped. "Do you think Kakashi would be _comforted_ by your 'bravery' if you were killed? Besides, Yondaime-sama needed you with him – Naruto was targeted!"

Obito turned, shocked, and his open jacket flapped over a dark-colored shirt. "Wh . . . Not again! In broad daylight?" He looked at Naruto and demanded, "Who the hell did you piss off, kid?"

It was a good question, and one to which Naruto wished that he knew the answer. Then he would actually have somewhere to start fixing things and get out of dodge. "Who _could_ I have pissed off?" he countered. "I've been in a coma for three weeks and haven't been allowed out of the village since I woke up!"

Obito shook his head in warning. "Ohhhhh no," he said. "Don't you start making me think it's an inside job of some kind."

"Doubtful," the man decided. "Yondaime-sama's reputation as a very protective father precedes him far and wide. At the absolute least, everyone of any political stature who might have designs against him would know better than to target one of the children – it's actually safer to just go after him directly, because if he were to live and one of his children were to die he'd go straight back to the source. And anyone in the way . . ."

Obito shuddered and made some fake religious gesture as he prayed solemnly, "The gods defend us."

Naruto, bored with the direction of the discussion, sighed impatiently. "Hey, if things are fine outside then let's at least go into the house. I think I'm developing claustrophobia."

"Without your dad's permission?" Obito prompted. "_Hell_ no."

"Wait a little longer, Naruto," the stranger advised. "Assuming Obito's telling the truth—"

"Oi!" Obito complained.

"—your father will be by to check up on you soon."

Naruto turned to him. "Fine, I guess. But you know, I've been wondering – exactly who are you?"

At that, Obito laughed so hard he nearly choked on the stick of strawberry pocky that poked from the corner of his mouth. He grabbed Naruto in a headlock and scrubbed the blond's skull with his knuckles. "This is my father, genius!" he cackled as Naruto fought and cursed to get free. He paused, then admitted, "Well, actually he's Kakashi's father, biologically, but after I got kicked out of the compound he was nice enough to let me stay with them. We all adopted each other, eventually."

Naruto quit his escape attempt and stared. Kakashi had obviously gotten most of his physical traits from his father – the messy platinum hair was the most obvious. ". . . Oh."

He had never heard much about Kakashi's father after Chiyo's mention of the man, only that he had been a skilled enough shinobi to be known throughout all of the shinobi nations as the White Fang and that the sight of him, like that of the Fourth, had caused shinobi to flee in terror. That was essentially where his life story ended, however, as no mention was ever made of his death. Naruto had assumed that he was dead, at any rate, and gone to Kakashi with some carefully-prepared and – ideally – tactful questions. What had worried him had been his jounin-sensei's response to his inquiry regarding the White Fang's death.

"_He died simply because he did the right thing, Naruto. Fortunately, I don't have to worry about you going out in quite the same way."_

That, quite honestly, alarmed Naruto. He knew that in his efforts to do good he did some massively reckless things and accepted that one day it might be a degree _too_ reckless, but what he wanted to know was why it would be better if he did not die the way the White Fang had. The word choice had almost sounded as though the death had been optional, as some negative counterpoint to self-sacrifice for the life of a friend. The certainty of that had meant there was no way to get the information from the master of esotericism himself, which had rather left Naruto at something of a dead end since he hesitated to ask anyone who would tattle on or chide him and his attention span was far too short for books. Things were obviously different where he had found himself, and he thought he might be able to dig up something valuable.

"He's the one who saved your life," Obito hinted, jarring him from his thoughts.

Naruto looked at the White Fang, who was only visible thanks to the ambient glow from the flashlight. "I thought it was Dad. I saw a white light . . ."

The man reached behind his head and drew what looked like a glorified tanto. He pushed some chakra into it as he swished it toward Obito; the blade crackled with Lightning-natured chakra and a wide arc of white light was left in the wake of the blade's movement. "Did it look anything like that?"

". . . Yeah . . ." Naruto confirmed, shocked. He had not even sensed the man's presence then; the White Fang must have been either very fast or very good at disguising his chakra – possibly both. "I suppose I should thank you, in that case." He grinned. "So thanks."

There was another patterned knocking on the pantry door and everyone grew still, though the White Fang did not turn off his flashlight. One of the ANBU lifted a hand to respond, but Obito suddenly darted forward with an eager whisper-cry. "No, wait! Let me!" That said, he rushed full-speed across the pantry and bodyslammed the door without an instant's hesitation. "Hey, Sensei!" he chirped with a surprising amount of breath.

As he bounced off but skillfully managed to keep his feet, the White Fang sighed after him, "Idiot . . ."

Muffled by the door, a voice beyond the wooden barrier echoed the sentiment. "Idiot," the Fourth agreed unintentionally. "If this door ever breaks, you're going to hear about it while you're paying for it."

Obito grinned and offered the ANBU a thumbs-up. "It's okay – you can open it."

"Are you crazy?" one of the male ANBU demanded. "We don't know who's out there y—"

Obito, instantly annoyed, shoved him against the door and snapped, "Not having the rulebook super-glued to my forehead doesn't mean I can't accurately do things!" He reached past the rookie and yanked the door open in a way that made the masked ninja stumble away. The happy grin returned and he opened his arms wide in a romance movie-worthy embrace. "_Sensei_!"

"Going by the rulebook from time to time wouldn't kill you," the Fourth said as he stepped down into the pantry, his hands tucked firmly into his pockets. "Though I agree," he added with a pointed look at the rookies as he bent down and shouldered an advancing Obito over his back with an enviously easy motion, "that going solely by the rulebook _will_. Why _did_ you do that, anyway?"

From the pantry floor Obito tsked and waved a chiding finger at the blond, then smirked. "Pattern knocking is too impersonal," he revealed. "By doing something very much _me_ that I know should garner an equally specific response from you under normal conditions, from your actual reply I can gauge your level of tension and therefore have a better chance of accurately deciding whether or not it's truly safe to open the door for you."

The Fourth looked at him for a moment, considering, then both eyebrows lifted and he tilted his head in acknowledgement. "Sound enough reasoning," he admitted. "Not sure the method falls under the same category, but I'll admit that it's a start."

"What do you mean?" Obito protested. "The method's _perfect_!"

"Remember you said that when you have to get a tetanus shot for a nail puncture in your chest."

"P'shaw," Obito said dismissively, and flapped a hand.

The Fourth's gaze fell on Naruto, and some faintly pinched expression eased. "I'm glad you're up, Naruto," he greeted, his voice gentle. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine," Naruto replied, and held out the overcoat he had folded messily in the dark. Or rather, the dark had not helped the meager folding skills present in him. "Is Mom okay?"

"She's all right," came the confirmation. "Not a scratch. I brought her back here." The coat was accepted and slid on with practiced ease. "Speaking of being all right . . ." He bowed to the White Fang. "Sakumo-san, I'm too grateful for words."

Sakumo lifted a hand in a halting motion. "Konoha's children must all be protected, regardless of station."

"Nevertheless, twice in thirty minutes is more than should be asked outside of an assignment."

Sakumo shrugged dismissively, obviously viewing the matter to be academic, and looked over at the pantry doorway, but no one – not even the pair of ANBU who should have been with the young Hokage – had followed. "Where is everyone?"

The Fourth's expression became tabletop flat. All he said was, "There's a lot of blood."

Which meant that there had been several enemy platoons in Konoha, and all of them were either dead or very badly injured. Out of necessity, the ANBU were helping the chuunin and jounin clean up.

"Where were they from?" Obito asked.

The blond frowned slightly. "Amegakure."

"Say _what_?" Obito protested. "We don't have bad relations with Rain!"

"I didn't realize they had anything resembling a camouflage technique," Sakumo mused. ". . . Are you sure they weren't Rock-nin in disguise?"

"A super-thin sheet of water apparently has a similar effect," the Fourth explained. His voice became cold. "If there were so many shinobi taking part, this wasn't some random hit. The Amekage won't admit to a damn thing no matter the truth. Obito, see if you can't make contact with Oniisan or one of the other two. Any information they might have would be invaluable."

"Him?" Obito questioned. "But—" The Fourth turned to him sharply, and Obito's mouth closed with an audible _clip_. He dipped his head and lowered his eyes and murmured, "Hokage-sama," before scurrying out of the room in a manner not unlike a dog with its tail between its legs.

Naruto barely noticed, being stuck as he was on one particular concept. ". . . Ame . . . kage?"

The Fourth turned to him with an expression of what could only be described as fond distress. "Look, it's a long story, but . . ." He dug through his pockets and finally came back up with a brush and ink bottle. With care, he stroked out a character on Naruto's palm that was not the same as what was on the back of his overcoat. "Rain, Waterfall, and Grass are too small to need or support full-time Kage, so they elect Shades, who are something like a second-in-command to whichever Shadow has full jurisdiction over their village. Things like major assassinations, though, they need permission from the overseeing Kage for."

Naruto examined the character closely; it was one he could not recall seeing before, though he certainly may have and had just forgotten it. Linguistics was extremely high on his list of snore-worthy studies, and the only reason he had even bothered to learn to read in the first place was because it was essential to being a good shinobi. "Weren't they doing fine with their councils?"

"Too much corruption," his father explained. "They were constantly arguing. To stay afloat financially and politically they had to have some central authority figure – at the very least someone to act as a tie-breaker. None of the Kage had the time to deal with it so we let them have an immediate, if not final, council head appointed by them and okayed by the overseeing Kage."

Naruto frowned. "That sounds dangerous. What if there was a war? Those would be extra numbers that we couldn't recruit."

The Fourth's brows drew together and his head tilted as he stared at Naruto, bemused. Finally, he pointed with a finger from the hand that held the brush and said, ". . . You're too young to be worrying about war."

"But I'm _right_," Naruto insisted.

"Earth Country's soil is so weak they can barely grow anything," was the response. "Their arrangement with Grass provides them with desperately needed, inexpensive foods. Waterfall and Rain are under somewhat less urgent conditions, but they're still what enabled Kirigakure to stop engaging in that pointless killing spree that the Nidaime Mizukage had the audacity to call a graduation ceremony. And, at least in theory, the overseeing Kage's distance from the village makes for an impartial appointment of the council head."

"_But I'm RIGHT_," Naruto repeated.

"Naruto," his father said calmly – perhaps a bit _too_ calmly – as the brush was tucked away, "if you want to know about village politics and preparations then buckle down for once, start putting some effort into your lessons, and make yourself indispensable to me as a shinobi. Right now you can barely protect yourself, let alone any kind of sensitive information you might be given."

Naruto scowled, but still rebelled quietly by saying, "If Rain would need permission from the Mizukage to engage in a 'major assassination' like this what we just had, shouldn't you be getting in contact with the Mizukage instead of the Amekage?"

_You __**fool**__!_ Kyuubi hissed. _Can't you see that you're on the verge of __**imprisonment**__?_

The Fourth's eyes narrowed and for a very long time he was silent. Finally, however, he said softly, "You should probably go to bed. Take a nap. It's been a rough day."

Naruto knew a concrete 'end of discussion' warning when he heard it. Normally he might have continued to argue despite the potential of a punch to the head, but Kyuubi did have a point. _I probably shouldn't have said all of that without finding out the politics here first._

_You astound me,_ the fox snarled, annoyed.

_And you wonder why we think you're an idiot,_ Sarcasm sighed.

Naruto flipped both of them a mental bird and crammed his hands into his pockets. "Yeah," he murmured, "I guess I do feel kind of tired."

He tried to not look like he was creeping past his father and bracing for a disciplinary swat, but he was sure he did anyway. Worse, he flinched visibly when the Fourth said, "About that incident with the ANBU—"

Naruto whirled and protested, "She stabbed me in the arm when we were totally exposed!"

"She was _saving your life_," his father reminded him severely. "_Perspective_, Naruto."

"And you let her hit me!" he accused, feigning the idea that he felt betrayed.

"Because you were needlessly offensive," was the response. "And seeing as it supposedly takes a village to raise a child, as one of your minders she would have been well within her right to not ask for permission."

Naruto stared at him, mouth open slightly in bewilderment. "It takes a . . ." For some reason, it had never before occurred to him how hysterically funny the old adage actually was. He laughed until his ribs ached and was still engaged in a hyena-like giggling when he flapped a hand at his father and gasped, "I guess that's possible . . . A village can certainly _ruin_ a child's life, right? So, theoretically, I imagine it could raise one if it tried, yes."

He turned and stumbled out of the pantry, laughing wildly at the whole concept, so he completely missed the Fourth's cringe of silent pain and the steadying hand Sakumo placed on the elder blond's shoulder.

* * *

Naruto had not meant to sleep, but when he opened his eyes he realized it was considerably darker than it had been when he had closed them. He sat up and for a moment his head pounded in agony. ". . . Oh, _ugh_ . . ." he groaned, and placed a hand against his forehead to hold his brain in. "I think I'm going to die . . ."

_Between that stupid prank, your two fights, and your acquired injuries, you exhausted all of your reserves,_ Kyuubi told him. _One half-assed and cut-short practice lesson isn't going to restore the quantities of chakra you're used to having at hand._

Naruto scooted to the edge of his bed as the headache faded to something much more manageable. It had most likely been a momentary thing and would probably be gone by the end of the hour – whatever hour it was. ". . . I have to pee."

_Are you __**listening**__?_ the fox demanded.

Naruto smirked as he pulled open his bedroom door. "Can't you tell?"

_You'll regret it,_ Kyuubi warned.

"I don't have to hear the story from _you_," he scoffed.

_Nobody __**else**__ cares enough about you to bother,_ Sarcasm pointed out, not incorrectly.

Ten minutes later, he was standing outside the front door of the manor and examining the position of the sun critically. Satisfied, he set off to the village and headed straight for a nice restaurant that he knew had a spacious restroom. Once there, he did the same thing he had done the day before – created a shadow clone and then used the transformation technique to become a nondescript citizen.

"Ow!" he hissed as his chakra system became cold fire. "Sonuva—!"

Kyuubi said nothing, but may as well have considering how he made his presence much easier to pick up.

Naruto rolled his eyes. "Very subtle."

The fox still said nothing, but did minimize his presence to avoid drawing too much attention to them.

With the preparations made, Naruto waited for his clone to sit down and then ambled out of the restaurant. To avoid drawing attention to himself he did not dare to search for followers until he had snuck out into the annexes and was relatively sheltered amongst the trees. It was risky to use the same trick so soon after its first application, but after the day's attack he was positive he would never have been allowed beyond the village walls and he really did need to start gathering information if his life was not guaranteed to last. Certain there was no one, he headed for the Nara lab and hoped Shikamaru had been able to examine the shard of silver for him.

He stepped up to the door of the small building and knocked as he cancelled the transformation. There was a metallic clatter inside, a rather harried cry of, "A minute!" and then the door was yanked open. Naruto, generally being a source of that sort of harassment, was unfazed by the audiovisual disaster. He beamed cheerily at a flustered Shikamaru and greeted the ponytailed genius with a Kakashi-esque, "Yo."

Shikamaru frowned faintly. "Oujisama . . .? Oh, right! The fragment . . ."

Clearly preoccupied, he wandered away and left the door wide open, so Naruto invited himself in. He took in the interior of the laboratory, which was definitely not showing improvement over the previous day's conditions. "Rough day, I take it?"

"Thereabouts," Shikamaru muttered, and Naruto was unsure if he was being answered.

"Shikamaru?"

"Sorry! Sorry . . ." was the distant response. "The lab's been through something of a metaphorical tornado; Yondaime-sama asked for a rush study of a piece of metal. Everyone only just left."

"A piece of metal?" Naruto echoed thoughtfully. "Must've been what I gave him, right?"

"Uh . . ." Shikamaru moved to the far side of the lab and picked up a notepad that was dark with copious scribbles. He flicked through it briefly and confirmed, "Yes. It looks like it, anyway." He tossed it back down and returned to whatever he had been doing.

Naruto watched him for a moment, startled; he had never seen Shikamaru so _busy_ before. ". . . Shikamaru? Are you feeling okay?"

The other boy nodded. "Fine, just . . . I apologize for ignoring you, but this is a delicate stage a—"

Naruto brightened. "Are you working with potassium again?"

He rushed over, though apparently too fast for Shikamaru's taste because the young genius whipped around and held out his arms in a frantic preventive motion. When Naruto executed a controlled stop, Shikamaru sighed in relief and turned back to his experiment. "Oujisama, I mean no disrespect, but I think I understand now why you've been referred to as a wagon wreck."

"So I understand it," Naruto confirmed. Iruka and Kakashi had occasionally called him such, and it had not taken all that long for Jiraiya to pick up on the harmless but nevertheless unflattering designation. He noticed that Shikamaru was suddenly looking at him with wide eyes. He desperately fought down the urge to make a joke about a deer in the beam of a flashlight and successfully deterred himself by asking, "What's the matter?"

Cautiously, Shikamaru said, "You're . . . not offended . . .?"

Naruto shrugged. "Can't please everybody, so there's always a critic."

"I suppose," Shikamaru agreed warily as he returned his focus to pieces of expensive-looking equipment that Naruto had never even seen before, let alone knew the name of.

The blond scanned the cluttered bench beside them for potassium or something else that might have had to do with Shikamaru's previous experiment, but all he saw was a handful of senbon sitting in a container of what smelled like kerosene. And since it was getting dark and his friend appeared to be so involved, he thought it might be better to leave. "I hate to drop in and run, Shikamaru, but if you can give me whatever you learned about that shard I'd be _really_ grateful and get out of your hair."

Shikamaru stared at the senbon for a long moment, then started and turned to him. "Shard? Oh! Right . . ." He moved to the near corner of the building.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Naruto asked with a concerned frown. "You seem a bit preoccupied."

Shikamaru picked up a petri dish and returned with it; the shard was inside. With a blustery sigh he ran his free hand into his hair and in the process dislodged a few locks from his ponytail so that they either stood up or sat skewed to the side. "I'm fine – I just get a little scatterbrained sometimes. Chouji usually keeps me grounded with his chattering and bag crinkling, but he had a family thing."

Naruto collected the shard. "Then maybe you should stop for today."

"Maybe," was the unconvinced response, said in a way that hinted clearly that being chided for scientific dedication was a common occurrence. "I'm almost done."

Naruto was certain that was a lie, but said nothing; there was no point in arguing about it.

Shikamaru set the petri dish aside and put one hand on his waist while he scratched the side of his head with the other. It seemed to be both a thoughtful and confused gesture. "Well," he said with a nod at the fragment, "notice that it's pretty heavy, taking its size into account."

Naruto hefted the shard thoughtfully. ". . . Yeah, I guess it is. I mean," he added when one of Shikamaru's eyebrows lifted, "I'm no scientist, so I didn't notice before, but now that you mention it I _do_ think it's a little heavier than it should be."

The genius nodded. "It's white gold."

Naruto brightened and blurted, "Really? Cool! How much is it worth?"

Shikamaru sighed. "I'm a scientist, not a jeweler."

Naruto laughed weakly and fiddled with the fragment. "Sorry."

"It's an aurum-platinum alloy," Shikamaru went on, "with traces of hydrargyrum."

Naruto stared at him blankly, completely lost. ". . . Eh?"

Kyuubi's interest was suddenly piqued. Urgently, the fox snapped, _It's a gold-platinum alloy with traces of mercury, you idiot._

Obediently, Naruto echoed, "Ah, I see! Why didn't you just say 'gold' and 'mercury' like everyone else?"

"But the odd thing," Shikamaru noted, sounding faintly exasperated at Naruto's lack of familiarity with the periodic table, "is that it has the _mercury_ on it as a coating rather than _in_ it as a component."

"That means something?" Naruto wondered.

"Logically," Shikamaru explained, "mercury would have to be solid and thus part of the alloy itself, not just present on the surface in a liquid form."

"Which means . . .?" the blond insisted.

He pointed at the shard. "That would appear to be a piece of some hollow item containing the mercury – possibly an explosive weapon – that had been shattered by its striking something."

"Explosive makes sense," Naruto noted with a self-important nod.

"Except mercury and platinum aren't known for having stellar thermal conductivity properties," Shikamaru argued. "Gold yes, but not mercury and platinum, and those two in combination would only nullify the properties inherent in the gold. Which would indicate that it wasn't meant to be explosive at all."

"Then what was it?" Naruto prompted. "An expensive shuriken?"

"I don't know," was the admission. "It doesn't make sense to forge a hollow weapon out of a gold-platinum alloy, fill it with mercury, and use it against anyone or anything. There's no strategic value whatsoever in something so dense and costly."

Naruto frowned at the fragment. "Huh. Anything else?"

"No, although I advise you to try to avoid holding that for long periods," Shikamaru instructed. "Mercury is a cumulative poison – it doesn't exactly flush out of one's system."

Naruto grimaced. "I'll keep that in mind." He tucked it into the rolled-back cuff of his sleeve. "Thanks for doing this for me, Shikamaru."

The young scientist shrugged and his fidgeting made Naruto think he wanted to turn his attention back to his experiments. "It was interesting. I appreciate the opportunity to study it myself, Oujisama. It was good to be able to practice on my own and then compare my notes with my father's. Please consider us even."

"If you like," Naruto answered. "And speaking of dads, I have to go before mine sends out a search party. But don't huddle in here for hours and hours, all right?"

Shikamaru made an unhappy noise. "You sound like Chouji."

"He's right," Naruto shot back. "By the way – last thing, I swear – yesterday you called him 'fatso' . . ."

"You probably shouldn't," Shikamaru replied.

"Right," Naruto acknowledged slowly, not surprised. "Thanks for the heads-up. See you around."

Good evening," was the distant response as the genius returned to his pet project.

Naruto saw himself out and thought that maybe he was supposed to be offended that he had not been seen to the door the way Iruka had told him he was supposed to when he had guests, but really he could not find any reason to care. He pulled closed the door to the lab and set off back down the hillside, admiring the brilliant shades the sky had taken on with the sun just recently set, but everything changed when he stepped into the darkened forest at the bottom of the hill.

Like any human, Naruto relied heavily on his eyes to tell him what was going on around him and rarely paid as much attention to his fox-granted senses unless he was instructed to or needed to. Still, over time it had more or less become an automatic gesture to switch his focus from his eyes to his ears and nose when he went anywhere that impaired his vision. So from almost the moment he entered the dense forest around the village, he was watching his surroundings much less than he was listening to and smelling them. That was why he quickly noticed the silence of some of the more shy night creatures and realized he was being followed.

It was a struggle to keep the tension from his body because he knew he was not in any position to do more than run for his life, but he continued to stroll in the direction of the village with his fingers laced behind his head in the event that he needed his hands on short notice. He went along without confrontation, however, which concerned him as he slipped back into the village in the midst of a big group of travelers arriving moments before the gate was to be closed. Uneasy, he scanned the area from under a raggedy cloth he had nipped from the back of a wagon to cover his telltale head of hair. It was wrong that someone intending to harass him had not done so when there were no witnesses.

_You don't think it's another assassination attempt, do you?_ Naruto asked.

_Killing you in public would be very hard on morale,_ Kyuubi offered, _and a sign of Konoha's weakness if they were unable to sufficiently protect you._

_On the same day as a previous – __**failed**__ – invasion?_

_Why not?_ the fox pointed out.

If so, Naruto agreed silently, it would certainly hint at the idea that Konoha was arrogant enough to believe there would only ever be one attack in a day, and never a small one. Once away from the gate he replaced the cloth on its wagon and eased away from the travelers so that he could wander into the main shinobi cemetery, which was reserved for the Hokage and their families. Morbidly, Naruto wondered as he meandered through the gravestones if he would ever be allowed funeral rites at all, let alone a burial, if he died before he became Hokage.

The grass crackled crisply behind him suddenly and he whirled, lifting his left arm to defend himself while he simultaneously raised his right fist in an uppercut. Both arms were caught easily by powerful gloved hands, and an instant before Naruto lashed out with a kick he looked up to identify his assailant.

It was Obito.

The adrenaline drained almost immediately and he was released as swiftly, but Naruto still wanted to kick him. "Were you following me?" he demanded, furious that he had been alarmed for nothing.

"I heard you were looking for a jeweler," was the response. "Not many know the value of white gold."

At first Naruto was confused by the strange statement, though Sarcasm lashed his mind with a stream of violent epithets, but he soon understood. The Uchiha reject had been – clearly shamelessly – eavesdropping on his conversation with Shikamaru. ". . . Damn it."

Obito smiled broadly.

* * *

To be continued in . . . **Chapter 14**** – Playing Cards**

Obito made a face. "_Tattle_? How old are you, again?" Naruto opened his mouth, but Obito waved his hand dismissively. "Never mind – I'll just put it in a way you can't mistake." He leaned in and said, "If you _don't_ tell me, I'll _definitely_ tell on you. How about that?"

* * *

**Answers To Questions You Didn't Even Know You Wanted To Ask:**

**"Nothing more … is ever assigned for any political assassination – too many chefs and all that. …"**

This is a little, apparently Hungarian-derived, adage most of you probably know: "Too many chefs spoil the soup (or sauce)." For those of you who might not, the idea – as I understand it – is that when you have a lot of good (or bad) chefs present in a kitchen, each one wants to season the soup in a specific way. The reason for that is because soup was often the first dish served during a meal, therefore its taste reflects on the chef and can set the tone for the rest of the meal. So when you have 'too many' chefs attempting to flavor the soup to **their** preference, it gets ruined either by excessive seasoning or the chefs arguing so much that it all boils away or something related to those.

You know what? I think I'm going to make cooking/baking Sakumo's civilian hobby. Consider that a teaser for later.

—

**… only that … the sight of him, like that of the Fourth, had caused shinobi to flee in terror.**

I admit that this may be an exaggeration. However, Sakumo was noted as being respected as highly as the Sannin, and in the Kakashi gaiden it was implied that Sakumo was someone to at least take very seriously, if not exactly a shinobi to run from. So if it's an exaggeration I don't suppose it would be much of one.

—

**The man reached behind his head and drew what looked like a glorified tanto.**

A _tanto_ is a knife; they tend to be anywhere from six to twelve inches (fifteen to thirty centimeters) in length and were often disguised as folded fans so as to escape detection. Usually, only samurai carried them – some had a structure good for piercing armor, and therefore sometimes replaced _wakizashi_ as the second blade – but women carried them too, in a generally self-defensive context.

—

**"Remember you said that when you have to get a tetanus shot for a nail puncture in your chest."**

Tetanus is an infectious bacterial disease generally acquired by a penetrating wound of some kind; it causes muscle spasms, particularly around the neck and jaw, and is sometimes known as lockjaw because of the symptoms. This is something you have to get a shot for roughly every ten years (or every five, for safety's sake, if you're unlucky and get hurt often), because that's about how long it takes the antibodies to say, "Oh, we don't need to be vigilant about this disease anymore," and they all die off. Getting the shot usually makes your arm hurt at least a little.

—

**"Amegakure."**

For the unaware, _Amegakure_ is Hidden Rain, which sent a particularly creepy genin team to the chuunin exams.

—

**With care, he stroked out a character … that was not the same as what was on the back of his coat.**

Often in Japanese, there are multiple characters that are pronounced the same but used differently depending on the context of the rest of the statement. In this case, there are two very individual characters – both pronounced _kage_ – where one indicates a dark image of something and the other a dimness in light. The former is the character used for the five Kage, and I am likely willfully misusing the latter like the obnoxiously abusive sillyface that I am. Once more – and probably not for the last time, because I'm not polite enough to stop doing it – I apologize for stomping all over a language I know virtually nothing about.

—

**"It's an aurum-platinum alloy … with traces of hydrargyrum."**

_Aurum_ is the Latin name for gold as a chemical element – which is why gold is identified on the periodic table as _Au_. _Hydrargyrum_ is Greek for 'water (or liquid) silver', which is how _Hg_ became the atomic symbol for the element mercury, the only metal that exists naturally in a liquid state. Platinum's atomic symbol is _Pt_ and comes from the Spanish _platina_, a diminutive of _plata_ ('silver' or 'plate'). Gold and platinum can indeed be made into an alloy, with the dense platinum giving the soft gold a firmer constitution, while mercury was once used to separate gold ore from rock.

—

**"Mercury is a cumulative poison – it doesn't exactly flush out of one's system."**

Mercury is extremely poisonous and should never be handled without taking all possible precautions; because of its nature it cannot be removed adequately from the body, either naturally or in mass quantities. Severe poisoning will cause damage to the central nervous system, sensory loss, and organ failure (especially in the liver and gastrointestinal tract). Symptoms include a disturbed sensation, lack of coordination, skin discoloration and peeling as well as elevated blood pressure, heart rate, and sweating resulting from the mercury blocking blood vessels and other vital internal pathways. Inhaling mercury vapors can cause brain damage and eventually death, and for all of these reasons mercury has been banned from the general public presence in many countries.

—

It's time to play a quick game of _Draw Your Own Conclusion_! Arashi is looking for someone to blame for this entire assassination debacle. If you review, you will seem busy and therefore not someone at whom he should aim his ire. Draw your own conclusion.

~RN (LS)


	14. Playing Cards

**Author's Notes:** Okay, well . . . I'm alive. Isn't that nice? **HUGE** thanks to you all for not nagging me incessantly or rudely – I am very grateful. This six-month delay was brought to you kindly by 1) a minor _VàV_ overhaul inspired by a review which you can find the details of in the Creator's Corner of my forum, as well as 2) a very distinct chapter fourteen brain freeze, and 3) an original work of fiction that I'm afraid does have to take precedence over what is essentially a hobby (although if I could make money writing fanfics for my fandoms I would _so_ get in on that). Reasons one and two have been seen to adequately, but I'm afraid reason three will continue to be my priority. I am _**not**_ quitting _VàV_ or _DNT_ or anything else; all I'm saying is that it may be another six months before I'm able to update again, so brace yourself. As always, your patience is loved and I shall happily kiss your feet for it.

**Word Count:** 6500 (**Total:** 80811)

**Date Submitted:** 4/21/10

* * *

**Chapter 14**** – Playing Cards**

* * *

"I wasn't doing anything," was the first thing out of Naruto's mouth. In immediate hindsight it was too defensive a statement and therefore an obvious lie. He smacked the heel of his hand against his forehead.

Obito laughed. "Look, just tell me what's going on, okay?"

Naruto frowned at him, distrustful. "How do I know you won't tattle?"

Obito made a face. "_Tattle_? How old are you, again?" Naruto opened his mouth, but Obito waved his hand dismissively. "Never mind – I'll just put it in a way you can't mistake." He leaned in and said, "If you _don't_ tell me, I'll _definitely_ tell on you. How about that?"

Naruto folded his arms across his chest and scowled.

"Don't bother," the Uchiha countered blithely. "I don't cater to your temper like everyone else."

"I'm not—" Naruto cut himself off and looked away, even more annoyed as it occurred to him that he had no escape. Sure, he could run, but anywhere he went Obito could find him again. _Now I'm in it._

_Quite,_ Kyuubi replied.

_Ha ha,_ Sarcasm snickered.

So he did the best he could under the circumstances. "If I tell you, are you going to tell Dad?"

"I don't know why you're so worried about it," Obito answered, "but I'll bite. It depends entirely on what you're doing and how you're doing it, kiddo. I make you no promises and reserve the right to squeal to Sensei about your activities at any time, but I recognize that he can be a little . . . smothering."

Naruto wished he knew more about Obito; that would have made the decision easier. He concluded that he could make a small confession to cover a bigger effort and said, "I wanted to find out who attacked me. You know that piece of metal I found?"

Obito scratched at his hairline. "Sensei's doing that."

"He'd never tell me what it was, though!" Naruto protested. "So I'm trying to find out myself. That's all."

"You're gonna give your dad a heart attack if you keep on," Obito chided. "Why do you give a damn?"

"Because I _do_," Naruto sniffed. "Think about the circumstances that have led to this. I realize I'm not the best fighter right now—"

"That's putting it mildly," Obito put in. "You suck, dude. Frequently."

Naruto punched him in the flank, which did not have nearly the effect it would have had once upon a time. "Don't you think it's weird that I apparently didn't have any guards?"

Obito looked at him flatly. "No. You ditched them all the time, like you have been recently. They and most of the other ANBU were already out looking for you when Sensei found you in the training grounds."

Naruto opened his mouth, closed it, and frowned. Then came that stroke of genius which he dredged up on only the rarest occasions. "I just want to know what happened, Obito. My life is . . . _gone_. And what's not gone is all screwed around itself. You think I'm going to give Dad a heart attack doing this, but have you seen what he does when I get something wrong otherwise? He doesn't want to tell me, I guess because he's afraid I'll be traumatized if I hear it, but I _need_ to know what happened to me. Even if I can't get my memory back, with all of these attacks I have to have _some_ idea of who or what has it in for me or I'm going to get killed."

Obito bobbed his head in reluctant agreement.

Naruto waited to see if he had played the harp strings properly.

". . . All right," Obito said finally, "I guess I'll let you continue to do this stuff, though I have no idea how you intend to follow it anywhere. I won't tell Sensei, either, but if I keep my silence then you _can't_ do anything that would require you to leave the village; and by 'village' I mean the annexes, since a ninja can go crazy confined to just the village proper. If you get to a point in your investigation where you think you have to leave the annexes too, tell me and I'll go out for you. If you _don't_ tell me and try to sneak out," he warned with a severe tone, "I _will_ hear about it and then your dad is going to hear about it. Okay?"

Naruto nodded. Anything to get the inquiry over with. "Okay."

"Swear on your mother's grave?" Obito insisted.

". . . Mom's not dead yet," he replied, puzzled.

Obito stared at him blankly, then shook his head. "Just swear, you delinquent."

"You'd get yourself in trouble?"

"If I misjudge a situation then I'll definitely cut my losses and sink the whole ship, pal," Obito confirmed. "_Swear_, punk."

"Fine," Naruto grumbled, even though he failed to see the significance of it. "I swear."

Obito smiled brightly. "Good. Now that we have that settled, tell me _everything_."

Naruto groaned.

"I have to know what's going on, too," Obito tsked. "And I'll be checking in for updates on your progress."

Naruto squinted at him. "Are you just trying to make this as complicated as possible so I'll give up?"

"I'm only being thorough," was the response, "though I don't imagine I'd weep tears of despair if you did. It'd make my life a hell of a lot easier. Well, come on, we have to get back to Sensei before he freaks out like he did yesterday. Zap your shadow clone and let's get a move on – you can tell me on the way."

_Ooh, busted,_ Sarcasm sighed.

Naruto looked at the jounin, wide-eyed, and tried for innocence. "What . . . What do you mean?"

Obito snorted and pointed at his own eyes. "Dude, _Sharingan_."

"But my guards—"

"Are in the trees behind you. You are _so_ lucky that I was the one to figure out what you were doing, brat," he said ominously. "Without me telling them to maintain a low profile until we found you they would have sent up another alarm and your dad would have been _pissed_. At all of us," he conceded, "but mostly you. _Don't_ do it again, is that clear?"

Naruto bristled at the command. "I just wanted—"

"Look, kid," Obito argued with forced calm, his dark eyes hard with anger barely leashed, "you need to do what your dad said earlier and get some perspective. _Now_. Maybe you think it's okay for you to go mouthing off and wandering all over creation, but at this point _you_ are the only one who knows exactly who you are. Is that making any sense in your thick yellow skull? Whether you're Naruto plus a bump on the head or some poser, we have only a few ways of knowing. And Sensei may be worried about putting you under stress so soon after you came out of that coma, but _I'm_ not. If you keep fucking with my Hokage like this, I'll mess you up so damn fast you'll have to walk on your hands for the rest of your life."

He was so used to hearing them that the threat went in one of Naruto's ears and out the other. "Should you have told me all of that?"

Obito snorted and said, "At this point, you're _nobody_. You have no chakra reserves and therefore no skills that I need to be concerned about. You can't defend yourself in a fight, and if you tried to run an Academy graduate could catch you. I get the idea that everybody has at least one secret, and that's okay with me, and it's okay with me if you have yours; you're entitled to them. But you're treading ice that's thinner than most and forcing others to walk with you. The reason I'm even going to the trouble of telling you all this crap is because I have my own ideas. I think independently of my clan, my village, and my Hokage. If I decide you're a danger, the sand in your hourglass will have run out. I _will_ kill you if I have to, without official permission, even if Sensei ends up killing me in turn for it. I will do _anything_ to protect my people. Clear?"

Precious people. Naruto could understand that.

"And you're one of them," Obito finished. "Or at least Naruto is, if you're not him. And I think that would be a little weird, when it came down it . . ." He flapped a hand at Naruto dismissively, as though the blond had said something. "So yeah. Anyway, I'll give you the benefit of the doubt. For the time being. But keep in mind that you're not exactly endearing yourself to me."

_Behave,_ Kyuubi advised. _He could be a useful ally._ Reluctantly, he added, _I think you need help._

Naruto balked, shocked at what he had just heard. Kyuubi had meaningfully and _not_ sarcastically suggested seeking help. The sky must have been falling somewhere. _**What**__? Why?_

_Just be quiet and accept what he can offer,_ Kyuubi snapped. _He is an Uchiha, and a powerful one at that. At least two attempts to kill you have been made – that's how we got here in the first place. You need someone to watch your back. __**Teamwork**__, remember?_

_I __**have**__ a team,_ Naruto argued. _**You**__. And while I don't exactly revel in the idea of trusting you, working for a common goal with someone who is ultimately my enemy is part of being a shinobi._

_Precisely,_ Kyuubi countered. _'Keep your friends close and your enemies closer', yes? I wouldn't consider this Konoha as your enemy yet; nevertheless, while you don't want to be suspected of anything you should still be using its resources – including its shinobi, in both a martial and informational context – to their fullest and gaining what knowledge about it you do not already possess. You may need it if you are attacked again._

Naruto hated it when the fox was right; the kitsune tended to gloat. It was, therefore, an effort to admit and concede the point. _. . . Fine._

Knuckles rapped sharply on his forehead and Obito intoned, "Warning – meltdown in progress. Look alive, Sunshine. It's dusk and you should get home."

Naruto refocused and looked at the Uchiha calmly. "Okay, I guess."

Obito snorted. "You _guess_? Just lose the clone and let's go."

Naruto complied and they headed out of the cemetery. They passed a young tree on the way and he realized only then that he had completely forgotten to ask Shikamaru about the acid burns that had been on the tree near the private training grounds. "Damn!"

Obito looked over at him sharply, surprised by his outburst. "Whatsa matter, brat? Forget something?"

Naruto's mouth glued itself shut, at first unwilling to share, but he reminded himself that Obito was his ally at least for the time being. He explained about the shard of metal and the burns.

Obito nodded. "I'll have a look myself, but acids aren't my specialty."

"That's okay – I know someone other than Shikamaru who should be familiar with them."

"Yeah?"

Naruto nodded. "Shino."

"_Aburame_ Shino?"

Naruto paused and looked at him. "Why does everybody react like that? _Yes_, Aburame Shino."

Obito poked him in the shoulder. "Since when did _you_ voluntarily hang around with anybody but Hinata?"

"I _don't_ hang around with him," Naruto argued. "That's the problem. I don't actually know if he _does_ know anything about acids, but I'd like to think he does."

"Why?"

"Some of the bugs his clan cultivates rely on acid for battle and tracking. It's a logical assumption, isn't it, you nosy jerk?" Naruto looked pointedly at Obito, who shrugged.

"I 'magine," he agreed lightly.

They continued on their way through the village, and while Obito did not seem to mind greeting the people who greeted them, Naruto could not help feeling a distinct itch on his scalp. Even though he shouted for attention, he was quite used to not getting it at all when he did not explicitly insist on having it, so it was unsettling to be noticed; as novel as the experience was, he felt a bit exposed. As a precautionary measure, regardless of whether he was being paranoid, he extended his senses as far as he could. Sensing others' chakra required a small portion of one's own, which he did not really have to spare, and while he assumed Obito was also being careful of who might be nearby he did not want to be caught off guard if the jounin acted suddenly.

Almost immediately, he felt a faint surge. It was nothing worth worrying about; it was exactly the amount used by experienced roof-crossing shinobi to assist in propelling themselves over any particularly wide streets, such as the main thoroughfare he and Obito were traveling. Still, he glanced up idly to double check and saw a pale man with long black hair pass overhead.

Instantly, a wave of blinding rage suffused him and while he did not have the chakra to go straight up the wall of the building right then, he knew how to use two close-set buildings to assist in upward motion. It only took him a moment to reach the roof and he rushed across it toward his target. When it came down to it, Kyuubi did not even think to stop him; the prideful fox had long taken insult for the battle at the Tenchi Bridge and was quite keen on having revenge for it. So he let Naruto draw back a fist and grinned toothily when Orochimaru began to turn, too late to stop the much deserved and truly devastating kidney punch that he was about to receive. Naruto threw his fist forward and was caught in a whirl of grey, blue, and red. He slammed shoulders-first onto the ceramic roof tiles and gagged for the air he had just lost.

"Naruto!" Obito cried from somewhere nearby.

Naruto flipped over, got his toes beneath him just enough to gain some leverage, and launched himself at Orochimaru's legs. They avoided him, but since he was not struck at again he was able to keep his feet – though it was hardly the most graceful manner in which he had done so – and he followed the retreat as his vision cleared. He continued to attempt to attack, with Kyuubi roaring conflicting commands in the background, but gained nothing for his effort. He was about to grab some of the fox's chakra – and screw whatever it might have meant for his cover – when arms circled his ribs and yanked him off balance. His arms and legs flailed as he struggled to both get free and keep his feet.

"Naruto, calm down!" Obito snapped. "What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"Let go!" he barked, and increased his struggles. "I'm gonna beat the shit out of that snake bastard!"

Except that Orochimaru was gone; there was neither sight nor sound of him. Briefly, Naruto wondered if he had actually been there, but Kyuubi's borrowed nose picked up the metallic scent unique to reptiles. He had, and the fox continued to gnash his fangs impotently. Naruto, however, let himself go limp in temporary defeat. He had no clue as to where Orochimaru could have been heading, and even though some of the water in the air would condense and strengthen the reptile scent for a while, he still did not have the chakra to attempt any level of battle. Attacking a Kage-level shinobi, particularly since he had no chakra immediately available, had certainly not been his brightest idea. But at least he knew the snake was around the village and could prepare himself.

_There'll be a next time,_ he told Kyuubi quickly, hoping to calm the fox so he could get himself under more reliable control.

_There better be!_ the kitsune snarled as he retreated.

_You're lucky there __**will**__ be one, fool!_ Sarcasm scolded.

Cautiously, Obito set Naruto on his feet, then spun the blond around to face him. "All right, good," he said hesitantly. "Now what the _hell_ was that?"

Naruto sighed, squinted one eye thoughtfully, and scratched his cheek with a finger. "You . . . wouldn't believe me if I said it was post-traumatic stress, would you?"

Obito folded his arms. "Brat, I _know_ people who have post-traumatic stress, and you don't. Yet, at least. But at the rate you're going I'm sure you'll give it to yourself soon enough."

So Naruto shrugged and effected a puzzled look. "I thought he was an enemy. He wasn't?"

Obito looked at him sideways. "No. He's been one of Konoha's foremost defenders nearly his whole life." Naruto squawked in surprise, but fortunately Obito took it the wrong way. "Right. Exactly. You're lucky he didn't accidentally kill you the instant you got within arm's reach. Idiot. Let's go before your guards have strokes."

Naruto took a last look around as Obito jumped back down to the street. There was no sign of Orochimaru, so he leaped from the roof as well; however, what little chakra he had regained since the attack of the Rain shinobi was not enough to cushion his drop. It gave out a second after he tried to use it, so he landed a bit hard. His right leg was the most unprepared and he, much to the mortification of his pride, collapsed to the street like an inexperienced academy cadet.

"Oi!" Obito called, sounding slightly alarmed. He knelt next to the blond. "You going to make it?"

Naruto scowled as he sat up. "Of course I will, moron!"

Obito apparently took his cue from Naruto's voice, because he closed his eyes and matter-of-factly cuffed the genin's head. "Don't insult your superiors, stupid."

"I'll remember that the next time I see one," Naruto hissed.

Obito hefted him to his feet by the collar of his jacket and gave him a gentle but distinctly pointed push in the direction of the administration tower. Naruto kept his eyes open and his head turning, but there was no other sign of anyone or anything potentially dangerous. Much to his agitation, Obito immediately assumed a noticeably idle, hands-in-pockets style of walking that Kakashi had often utilized when attempting to silently point out – whether or not it was true – how there was nothing in the world to get excited about. Just to be irritating, Naruto ran ahead as though he meant to get in trouble elsewhere, but Obito simply watched him go. When Naruto reached the door of the Hokage's office he found Obito leaning casually against the wall beside it as though the Uchiha had been there for hours, so that rather than being irritating he was the one who was irritated.

_And you want me to team up with this show-off?_ Naruto demanded of Kyuubi.

The fox chose to not respond, but Sarcasm snapped, _Oh, so His Gloriousness can dish it out but not take it?_

"I said _home_, dumbass," the jounin said.

"You _said_ we had to get back to Dad," Naruto argued as he reached for the door, amused by Obito's visible displeasure. "And here we are."

"Even _you_ have to have an appointment when you're here!" Obito hissed. "You can't just _walk in_ a—!"

The Uchiha grabbed him and yanked him away from the door handle so suddenly that once again Naruto's legs kicked out automatically as he attempted to regain his balance. A sandal-clad foot hit the varnished brown wood and the door's latch, stuck partway open thanks to Naruto's initial interrupted effort to enter, opened up completely with a surprisingly ominous _click_. The door swung easily on well-greased hinges and jounin and genin froze when the narrow stares of three displeased eyes was revealed.

_If it's not one thing, eh?_ Kyuubi growled, wringing his tails furiously.

Orochimaru, Naruto had to admit, _was_ one thing. He was obviously evil and, whether or not he agreed with that particular assessment, he did not appear to mind if everyone thought so. He made no secret of his ambitions because he was either so arrogant as to think that no one could stop him or so narrow-minded it had never occurred to him that people did not understand what he was reaching for. Either way, his goal was clear and he – at least back home – had pursued it with an admirable vigor. If nothing else, Naruto had always been impressed by such a level of unswerving dedication; it was simply unfortunate that he had focused it on something so stupid.

Danzou, however, was something else entirely. If ever there had been a phrase coined for a person, "stupid like a fox" was his. Danzou was the kind of evil even Orochimaru could not hope to equal; whereas Orochimaru had no interest in anything beyond personal satisfaction, Danzou truly believed that the things he did were necessary to the future safety of Konoha, even if that meant coercing someone to attack the village to prove a point that he had not had proof of to begin with. But forwarding his plans necessitated slyness so that no one knew he was the cause of them or else his argument would be shouted down, and as a result he was very good at avoiding direct links with those instances. Most of the people in positions of power who did not agree with his views already suspected him of many of Konoha's problems with other nations, but no one had ever been able to find decent evidence.

Naruto had never met anyone who truly _liked_ Danzou – even the greater majority of his underlings were brainwashed in some fashion and, on top of that, lived in low-grade terror of his retribution – and he could tell by Obito's suddenly tightened grip that things seemed not so different for once. Intense care would have to be exercised at all times around the old hawk.

"Is there a problem?" the Fourth asked calmly, his gaze cool.

"No sir!" Obito said quickly, and nearly slammed Naruto down in his haste to straighten respectfully.

Naruto bowed. "I apologize. It's my fault. I wished to see you and forgot protocol. Uchiha-san attempted to stop me, and in the process the door was opened. I will immediately close it and be on my way."

"Very well," his father responded, clearly stuck in Hokage Mode. "Go."

Naruto bowed again carefully. "Hokage-sama. Danzou-sama."

As he closed the door Obito bowed hastily at the room in general. When it was shut he walked away, and Obito followed, a bit stunned. ". . . What the hell?"

Naruto glanced back at him and smirked devilishly. "Surprised?"

"More than a little," Obito snapped. Naruto put one finger to his lips and continued on his way. Obito was able to wait just until they were inside the manor a few minutes later, at which point he blurted impatiently, "I _said_, 'What the hell?'"

"Tell me about Danzou," Naruto instructed.

"He's an asshole, you should stay the hell away from him, and that's all someone your age needs to know. If you want more than that, ask your dad. Now explain what that was back there!"

"Some people just _look_ like trouble," Naruto answered dismissively.

"For sure," Obito muttered. "So you altered your behavior based on his appearance?"

"Why give the buzzards reason to circle closer any faster than they absolutely have to?" Naruto countered.

Obito inclined his head in agreement. "Odd, though."

"Is it?"

One of Obito's dark brows lifted in question. "You freely attack some people but act like you're well-bred around others?"

"That's different."

"Don't see how."

Naruto was not going to bother to attempt to explain his reasoning, particularly under the circumstances. He might need to use the tactic again later. "You're smart, or so you imply. _You_ figure it out."

Aya had not quite finished supper by then, which left the two hanging somewhat. To pass the time Obito wandered off somewhere in the manor, which allowed Naruto to entertain himself without the concern of coming under suspicion from skeptical people. He flipped over on the couch so his head was hanging off the seat cushion and closed his eyes. Strangely enough, he actually thought pretty well while he was upside-down, perhaps because the sound of his blood rushing through his head drowned out external stimuli which might have distracted him in any other case. Whatever it was and like usual, he did not question it as long as it worked. _This complicates things._

_The Uchiha is probably trustworthy,_ Kyuubi replied distantly. _That clan prides itself on its virtuousness._

_Not the way I've heard it,_ Naruto argued.

_Fool,_ the fox snapped. _I mean __**here**__._ As a pointed jab, he added, _Your selective hearing irritates me._

_I could say the same,_ Naruto returned coolly.

"Oi, br— . . . What are you _doing_?"

Naruto opened his eyes and looked at Obito, who was standing in the doorway to the lounge and staring at him. "What does it _look_ like I'm doing?"

"Trying to cause an aneurysm," was the response. "Sensei wants to chew us out for interrupting his talk."

"What?"

"Well, that's not what the messenger said," Obito conceded, "but that's what's going to happen."

Naruto sighed and tipped over, then got to his feet and followed Obito to the door. "Why do we have to go there? Can't he just come here?"

"'Always keep your work and business separate'," Obito intoned as he pulled on his sandals. "He dislikes bringing stuff home, although he often does anyway."

When they reached the Hokage's office Naruto braced for any possible reaction; seeing his father's face so flat during the meeting with Danzou had reminded him again that the Fourth was the Fourth for a reason. However, Obito simply knocked on the door.

"Yes, Obito, thank you," was the response from inside. "You're surprisingly – no, _astonishingly_ – prompt. Did someone do me the favor of setting your ass on fire?"

"I can be on time when I want to," Obito sniffed. He opened the door, took a step in, and stopped. He then looked back at Naruto, who squeezed past him impatiently and found that the office chair was empty. Or rather, not empty so much as occupied in an unusual fashion; he could see his father's legs bent loosely over the arms of the chair where they connected to the back. ". . . Sensei?"

"I have a migraine," the Fourth answered. "Nothing could possibly make it any worse, which is why I'm indulging in this display of flexibility which I'm discovering I no longer have. It pains me, quite literally, to realize that I'm getting old."

Obito looked at Naruto again as he finished entering the room and closed the door. "Being blond must be a sign that you're born with one hemisphere of your brain missing."

Naruto rolled his eyes, and from behind the desk came an ominous, "I _heard_ that."

Obito shrugged. "Yeah, well, do something about it."

"You seem stressed, Obito. A year at the academy guiding those bright, inquiring minds will do you good."

"Ouch," Obito said. "Taking out the big shuriken already. All right, well, the princess and I are here for our visit. You messengered?"

There was a squeak as the chair turned jerkily so its back was perpendicular to the desktop, and then the Fourth's legs and part of his torso appeared before he flipped over completely and righted himself. He straightened his clothes and sat in his chair the correct way. "Hang on a bit longer, please. I didn't think you'd get here so soon and I still need a minute to prepare."

In one of the greatest displays of immaturity Naruto had ever witnessed or conceived, his father leaned over his desk, placed a hand atop the neat stack of papers on either side of him, and pushed at the left one so the first two or three sheets cut into the air. He then mimicked the activity on the right, and proceeded to seesaw the motion until there was too much friction between paper and desk to acquire good airtime. At that point the Fourth shoved the sad remnants of both piles farther to the sides, cheerfully lay himself facedown on his mostly cleared desk, and heaved a huge, relieved sigh.

Naruto looked at Obito. "And you asked me how old _I_ was?"

The Uchiha was unruffled. "This is stressful work."

Naruto returned his attention to his father. He had to admit that the effort _had_ seemed therapeutic; he would have to remember it when he became Hokage. "Okay, but now you have to clean it up."

"So?" his father trilled blissfully, as though he had just transported himself to a tropical island. "If I wanted, I could have someone pick it up _for_ me. But if not, the time that I spend doing so myself is less time I have to spend getting eyestrain and hand cramps."

Good point.

Still, as Hokage the Fourth was not irresponsible; he had visitors whom he had specifically summoned to his office and he was going to give them the attention due. He sat up, looked pointedly at Naruto, and cut right to the chase. "Stop wandering off."

Naruto grimaced and recoiled, but asked, "What makes you think I went anywhere?"

"You snuck away from your guard again," he answered.

"How do you know?" Naruto pressed.

"I'm the Hokage," his father countered. "Challenging my methods insults the power and knowledge that title carries. When I want accurate information, I _get_ it."

"He wasn't doing anything _bad_, Sensei," Obito wheedled.

The Fourth turned stiffly to the Uchiha and said, "For example, Obito has been involved in a bar fight once a week every week for the past three months because he hits on the female patrons."

"I'm not hurting anything and they're not telling me to stop! The _boyfriends_ start it!"

"As I'm sure all present are aware," the Fourth continued, "doing anything but defending against the attack of a civilian or civilians is an offense that carries a sentence of demotion at best, dismissal at worst."

Obito hunched his shoulders defensively and looked away. Contrite and aware that he owed the retention of his rank to his teacher's position and lenience, he mumbled, "Thank you, Hokage-sama," but then added to it with a softer but notably cheeky, "may I have another?"

Whether or not he heard, the Fourth seemed satisfied and returned his attention to Naruto. "Normally I'd applaud the caliber of stealth you're employing, but I told you to _stay home_. Perhaps I didn't make myself clear enough, but I'm certain I did say that you'd get a week of solitary confinement. When would you like to start?"

"You said that _the next time I wanted to be alone_ I'd get solitary," Naruto argued, perhaps a bit more boldly than was reasonable. On the other hand, he never had been impressed by those who waved their political power – or any power, though at least physical power could be backed up adequately – in the faces of others, and his own father was not going to be the first exception he made. "And the fact is, I didn't go into the annexes to be alone this time."

The Fourth looked at him for a long moment. "But what could possibly be so interesting out there that you would have to go back the same day your life was at risk?"

"I was just visiting friends."

A dark blond eyebrow went up. "_Friends_?"

"What?" Naruto asked. "Too busy watching me to notice what I'm actually _doing_? Or am I not allowed to have friends who could corrupt me into being less of a prick?"

His father looked at him for a moment, then gestured for him to get closer. Naruto did not feel as though he was under threat, so he approached readily. A stare down ensued in which father and son gazed at one another with what the latter realized were very different eyes. Both sets were definitely blue, but Naruto's were a much deeper and richer shade than those of his father, whose irises were so pale as to be nearly white with darker streaks forming random spokes amongst the individual fibers. Had Naruto been younger and more inexperienced he might have been intimidated by such a uniqueness, but as he was he thought it was interesting and little else; if the circumstances had been more pleasant he might have even gone to the trouble of asking about them.

In Naruto's mind nothing else happened, but the Fourth finally sat back and said, "The other thing I wanted to address with you is the method you used to escape Sandaime-sama's training this morning."

Obito perked up and looked at Naruto. "You fooled _Sandaime_?"

"'Fooled' is definitely not the word," the Fourth corrected. "Naruto, where did you get the material to enact that technique convincingly?"

Naruto looked at his father sideways, hesitant to answer when there was a risk he would get some kind of lecture he did not care about. "Magazines, mostly."

"And the rest of the time?"

". . . The village baths."

There was an audible slapping sound as the Fourth's palm met his bare forehead. The older blond leaned on his desk, his eyes closed.

"The _baths_?" Obito echoed loudly, insanely curious. "What the hell kind of technique _is_ it?"

The Fourth made a circular motion with two fingers. "Show me, Naruto."

Naruto decided to keep things morally friendly, so when he at last performed the technique his female self was still wearing clothes. Obito stared.

"No, Naruto," his father sighed. "Demonstrate the _exact_ technique."

"Why? You obviously already know—"

"Just _do it_, Naruto."

Naruto frowned, but obediently brought his hands together in the proper seal again. "_Henge_!"

He had expected anything to happen – a nosebleed, a scolding, laughter, or two or all of those – except for what actually _did_ happen.

Nothing.

_Nothing_ happened.

Well, actually something _did_ happen, belated though it might have been. Obito's stare became a gawk, then he broke into hysterical laughter and clapped one hand over his nose. "Holy shit, that's _awesome_!" he crowed as he pointed at Naruto. "Can you do that again so I can copy it? _Please_?"

His father just sat there for a moment and gave him a long once-over, then said, "Anatomically accurate. Proper proportions." A little sarcastically, he added, "You clearly studied quite hard. Congratulations."

His prank jutsu was being _critiqued_.

Naruto let the change dissolve and admitted, ". . . That's never happened before."

The Fourth smiled knowingly. "For that to work, one has to be shy about the opposite sex or otherwise thinking very specific thoughts. Seeing as I more or less grew up around women who were always in varying stages of dress, I have reached a point where it no longer has an effect on me."

"_PLEASE, Naruto-sensei_!" Obito howled as he wiped his nose with his jacket sleeve. "_PLEASE teach me_!"

"Be quiet," the Fourth ordered, "or I'll have you arrested and charged with contributing to the delinquency of a minor."

Obito cackled. "I think it's a little late to worry about that, Sensei."

"I'm not sure you appreciate how close to a demotion you are, Obito," the Fourth said as though discussing the contents of a fruit cart.

Unlike before, however, Obito's mouth clipped shut instantly and audibly and he looked at the floor in an abashed quiet. Naruto found it more than a little interesting that such an idle-sounding comment could have such an impact. He had never heard any Hokage _really_ threaten anyone from the village, and it was extremely instructive to see how – as usual in the ninja world – body language spoke just as loudly as a voice. "I'll take my leave, if that's what you'd prefer . . ."

"No, I want you to stay. See it as an exercise in controlling your mouth."

"Yes sir."

The Fourth turned to Naruto. "You, though, are dismissed. Supper's probably ready by now."

"Dad," Naruto said quickly, "I want to hear about Danzou first."

"No way," was the response. "Considering what I went through before you came back, it would require too many expletives. Maybe later. The only thing that you definitely need to know is that he is _not_ to be trusted under any circumstances. Avoid him at all costs and don't let your sister near him either. Or Hotaru, for that matter."

Naruto scowled. "When are you going to start telling me things so I'm not walking around with a blindfold over my eyes and my arms waving around in front of me?"

His father met his gaze unflinchingly. "_Not yet_. I realize I haven't kept you informed and I realize that such a fact results in making you more vulnerable. I've taken that into account. Now go home, eat, and get to bed. You _do_ have training with Sandaime-sama again tomorrow, and the hours which you managed to skip today with your stunt are ones you'll make up for then."

Naruto grimaced. He should have seen that coming, really; Kakashi and Iruka had always been that way as well. "Fine."

"Oh, and tell Aya I _will_ be home soon, so if she could make up a plate for me that'd be great."

"All right," Naruto confirmed blithely. He went to the office door – "Nice poster, by the way." – and pulled it open carelessly. The corridor that lay beyond it, however, refocused his attention instantly. Or rather, the one who stood in the corridor. Clothes greyed with age, red kataginu, the ever-present scroll, and those stupid, _stupid_ geta . . . His mouth fell open slightly in his shock.

_Shh,_ Kyuubi warned softly.

". . . Ero-sennin . . ."

_You must have a hearing impairment,_ Sarcasm hissed.

_I must have stuttered,_ the fox snarled, unintentionally either agreeing or arguing, _so allow me to clarify. I'm certain my exact word was, 'shhhhhhhh'!_

"'_Ero-sennin_'?" Jiraiya snapped, as irritated as he had ever been whenever the unflattering nickname was used in the presence of others. Not that, really, there were any better 'others' to be around, though Obito would no doubt take the title and gleefully run to the end of the universe with it.

Naruto's instinctive response to the sight of the old pervert was to laugh and hug him and maybe even cry a little bit because happy tears were okay, and indeed his arms did start to rise. But whether it was the fox or his own common sense he realized that he was apparently about to do something _else_ that would be perceived as weird and worrying; he caught himself and let his arms drop back to his sides, then recoiled from the man, averted his eyes forcefully, and sidled past him before darting down the hall in panic and agony. He knew he had to run to avoid doing something crazy, but hated it all the same. One should never have to run from one's family or friends. Not ever. And no, he did not feel any telltale wetness on his face.

His eyes were just fine.

* * *

To be continued in . . . **Chapter 15**** – Inquiring Minds**

"He opened a can of whoop-ass on Orochi-jiisan," Obito reported. "It wasn't nearly a big enough can, of course, but . . ." He paused and looked at Arashi, uncertain. "Sensei, Naruto _hates_ him."

"And the question is why," Jiraiya interjected, "when Orochimaru and I are both almost never here, yet he behaved exactly the opposite upon seeing me."

* * *

**Answers To Questions You Didn't Even Know You Wanted To Ask:**

**terrorofthehighway** wrote me a very nice review, so thank you very much. It's an anonymous review, so I'm going to answer a little bit of it in the Creator's Corner: Review Edition of my Doorways forum because others have remarked on some of the same things and I want to keep everyone as informed as possible regarding changes from _DNT_ that are included in _VàV_ (among other things). And yes, for the record I **do** like concrit. Though I'd prefer concrit, I don't even mind plain criticism as long as the 'why' is covered properly and courteously so I have an actual perspective to consider. Anyway, it's a pretty big response, so have a look in the Creator's Corner; it may answer a question you have.

—

**… the prideful fox had long taken insult for the battle at the Tenchi Bridge and was quite keen on having revenge for it.**

I don't remember what they're calling it in the dub, or if they're calling it anything at all, but _Tenchi_ is the bridge in the ambushing-Kabuto sequence where we first see what happens to Naruto once he gains more than three of the kyuubi's tails. I believe the correct English translation is "Heaven and Earth" bridge.

—

**"Brat, I _know_ people who have post-traumatic stress, and you don't. … "**

Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder is something I figure is probably familiar to virtually everyone these days. In short, PTSD is a mental and emotional issue caused by a trauma of a physical or psychological (or both) nature, and its effects range from mild to debilitating; phobias, recurring nightmares, and insomnia can all potentially be forms of PTSD. In general and for obvious reasons one usually only hears of soldiers developing it, but it's perfectly possible to develop PTSD simply by going through an extraordinarily frightening and/or painful experience. To be sure, not everyone who experiences something horrific will have to face PTSD, but for those who do it can either take shape immediately following the incident or several years after the fact.

—

**Clothes greyed with age, red kataginu, the ever-present scroll, and those stupid, **_**stupid**_** geta …**

I'm not sure if Jiraiya's 'vest' is actually a _kataginu_, but it was the most appropriate term I could find (a correction is welcome). _Kataginu_ are a form of sleeveless top meant to allow a greater range of movement, and styles back in the day included pleated 'wings' at either shoulder. _Geta_ are, of course, those funny wooden sandals; they can have one to three 'teeth', although three is uncommon, and for strength are carved from a single piece of wood. The height of the 'teeth' can vary; seafood merchants in particular would/do wear _geta_ with long 'teeth' to stay above whatever unpleasant bits fell underfoot. _Geta_ are informal, so there's no need to wear _tabi_ (socks) with them, but apprentice geisha – called _maiko_ – wear a 'toothless' form of _geta_ known as _okobo_, and they generally do also wear _tabi_.

—

Also, a **very IMPORTANT notice! VOTING shall now commence!** The time has come at last! A lot of people asked quite some time ago about whether or not Naruto would have access to Sage Mode – and thus Senjutsu – but at the time I said I wasn't sure because it was a new thing and I wanted to see what and how Naruto learned about it and the accompanying techniques. Now that there is sufficient information in that regard, I'm wondering what you all think.

Sage Mode could make things easier, at least in a battle context, and eventually provide interesting drama. However, it could also lead to Naruto being a bit omnipotent. If it _is_ included, Naruto will probably be thinking about it very soon since he's going back into training, and it will have to be addressed at that time; seeing as it's a very visible change – and not necessarily one that would wear off quickly – it _would_ be noticed and questioned by the Fourth (or Obito or Kakashi or whoever), or we could say that Naruto will have to find ways to hide it.

Personally, I can see where Sage Mode/Senjutsu could be both a great aid and a great problem. So please help me by going to my profile and voting – but do read _**all**_ the choices carefully, because it's more than just a simple 'yes' or 'no' – and if you have any reasoning for or against it or if you have any advice regarding how I should handle including it, don't hesitate to mention it in a review or PM. Thanks!

—

It's time to play a quick game of _Draw Your Own Conclusion_! Obito apparently has way too much time on his hands and needs to be kept occupied in some way. If you review, the Fourth can give him something to do which will amuse him for a few hours. Draw your own conclusion.

~RN (LS)


	15. Inquiring Minds

**Author's Notes:** A very insightful chapter, if I do say so myself; I daresay many of you will find it enlightening and frustrating, hopefully in a fun way. Written fairly quickly, but I didn't post it immediately because I wanted time to edit and have a buffer for chapter sixteen, which it turns out I do actually need. Also, I'm posting this right before I head off across the state to watch somebody's dogs for eleven days; not that I expect I won't have internet access there – I did in October – but merely answering reviews/questions will be far easier and more polite than snooping around on someone else's computer to make sure everything is compatible. I just figured you'd like to have it now, in case I'm wrong, than wait an extra two weeks.

**Word Count:** 7326 (**Total:** 88139)

**Date Submitted:** 6/15/10

* * *

**Chapter 15**** – Inquiring Minds**

* * *

". . . Since when did Naruto have friends?"

"You are a terrible person," Jiraiya scolded unconvincingly.

"It's a valid question," Arashi argued. "Hyuuga Hinata has always been the closest thing he has to a friend, but even the time _they_ spend together tends to rely on her stopping by the manor because her father upsets her or her sister or cousin in some way. Naruto doesn't _look_ for people he wants to be around."

"He _didn't_ go look for people he wanted to be around, once upon a time," Jiraiya corrected. "Remember? Blows to the head can change a personality. Maybe he wants some company now."

Arashi cringed slightly. "You mean company he's not getting at home."

"I didn't say that, you insecure brat."

Arashi scowled and made a shooing motion with the fingers of one hand. "Don't you have women to peep at somewhere?"

"Hey, don't say it like that – it's important work. The world will thank me!"

"Yeah," Obito cracked immediately, apparently unable to help himself and therefore momentarily failing to keep his mouth shut as previously commanded. "Only if you insert 'male' between 'the' and 'world'."

Arashi pointed at him. "Jounin."

"Aww!" Obito whined in protest. Technically, Obito still _was_ a jounin, he just happened to also be part of ANBU. He was not oblivious to the implication, however, that Arashi would be cutting him from the ANBU ranks for opening his mouth before he had been allowed to.

"Chuunin?" the blond replied, the pitch of his voice lifting in a warning query.

Obito closed his mouth and shook his head feverishly, waving his arms in fervent refusal.

"I came to visit you," Jiraiya said, silencing the wandering topic before it drifted too far and dragging it back to the desk. "I have some information you're going to _love_."

"Oh, _please_ tell me that Danzou just had a heart attack in the last hour and died before anyone could help."

"In your dreams."

Arashi groaned. "What, then? There's very little else I could love as much as that."

"Grass, it seems, is starting to cock its leg to everybody's pants."

Arashi made a face. "Psh. It's only one of those tiny yappy dogs anyway. I could sneeze and wipe out half of Kusagakure – that's practically what I did last time. The Tsuchikage is probably already taking care of it."

"They've commissioned some help," Jiraiya warned. "It's all underground for now."

The young Hokage's pale eyes shifted from his disorganized desk up to his teacher. Underground was bad. Underground meant that the Tsuchikage had most likely not given his permission for such a commission to be made, nor was the Tsuchikage probably even aware of it because he was very likely also a target. Still, it was logical to ask, "Does he know about it yet?" With the overseeing Kage so far away, Rock-nin spies would be established in Grass the same way Mist-nin spies would be established in Rain and Waterfall.

Jiraiya shrugged.

"I want an eye kept on it."

"Absolutely."

Technically, it was not the Hokage's place to monitor the activity of Grass without proof of aggression – he was _supposed_ to send an inquiry to the Tsuchikage, who would formally investigate and provide a public report – but as far as Arashi was concerned anything underground was aggressive on mere principal, regardless of whether or not the Tsuchikage knew about it. Besides, if the Tsuchikage did _not_ know about it, alerting him would cause him to investigate and make the activity stop, and the fact was that Arashi wanted to know exactly what was going on there before he put a stop to it. He leaned back in his chair. "Anything else?"

"Rain is wetting itself, in both contexts."

The blond perked up. "Obito couldn't get in contact with Oniisan. Did you?"

"Don't expect much. Amegakure's a mess. One group keeps saying that it's Hanzou's fault, another says Hanzou's the only one who could have resolved it, and a third is just outright panicking. Negotiation is taking a long time and the general in-fighting is nasty."

"'It'?"

"Hell if I know."

"And the Amekage?"

"AWOL. Or holed up somewhere. No one seems to know; I've heard twenty people say twenty things."

Arashi snorted. "Way to be a leader."

"Hey," Jiraiya cautioned, "speaking of leaders, you need to keep your eyes open."

Arashi frowned. "Naturally. Kono—"

"I don't mean the village in itself. I mean _you_ and everyone around you." Arashi tilted his head and Jiraiya explained, "Remember that you almost single-handedly defeated Grass in the last war. If they're gathering anything at all you can expect they'll target you at some point, in one way or another."

Arashi's head cocked sharply. "You think Naru—"

"I don't think anything right now," was the response. "But Naruto is definitely your weakest flank. Akiko and Hotaru stay in the village; it'll be easy to step up the guard around them. Naruto, on the other hand, has always had a knack for leaving his guards behind. He likes to wander, and he likes to wander _alone_. His memories are not reliable as far as we know, so he may have forgotten his history lessons too and not be as wary around any Grass-nin he encounters. That's assuming, of course, that he hasn't already been replaced."

"But what would be the point?"

"To exhaust, frighten, and redirect you. And it's working."

"I'm fine."

"There are simple ways to find out whether or not Naruto is who he claims," a new voice interjected. The three sets of eyes in the room turned to the office door, which had opened to admit Orochimaru. "Blood tests and an encephalic probe are the least invasive."

Arashi grimaced. "Encephalic probes are invasions of privacy, and to have someone do that to him would mean having to submit myself to one for a base reading."

"But blood tests can be faked," Jiraiya pointed out.

"You won't need a scan yourself," Orochimaru said as he closed the office door behind him. "His mother already has one on file."

Arashi's eyes narrowed at that and he glared viciously. Obito, despite not being the target of his teacher's fury, still backed up several steps and sidled surreptitiously behind Jiraiya. The blond's teeth ground together and his anger continued to grow until it raised the hackles of the room's three other occupants, but Orochimaru did not yet appear concerned by it. Jiraiya snapped his fingers – "Enough." – and the moment ended; Arashi blinked and shifted his gaze, his eyes suddenly as easygoing as everyone was used to seeing them.

Obito sank weakly to his knees, shaking, one hand resting protectively over his heart. The other three men looked at him and Arashi grimaced. "Sorry, Obito." In response to that, the Uchiha flopped backwards onto the floor and twitched. "Oi, it's wasn't _that_ bad."

"Yeah, it was," Jiraiya countered. "You _do_ have a temper, much as you might like to ignore it."

Arashi scowled and folded his arms across his chest. "Like it's something I _shouldn't_ have a temper about."

"The ANBU were doing their job."

"Kindly notice that I never did anything to any of them for it," the blond shot back immediately, his anger renewed. "Now," he added with a pointed look at Jiraiya and Orochimaru, "we were talking about _Naruto_. Who is _not_ doing anything wrong. Yet."

"You're planning to _wait_ for something to happen?" Orochimaru asked, faintly incredulous. "I understand that you would prefer to not put him under pressure and I agree to a point because of the sensitivity of head injuries, but the fact that he's already not sitting still should tell you how _he's_ feeling about his own capabilities."

Arashi leaned forward. "What did you see?"

"Someone who seems to have more experience than Naruto, but fewer resources. All he's done during both of his excursions is create one shadow clone and use one henge to get into the annexes. As you're doubtless aware, most academy graduates – because they took the horror stories from their strategy lessons so seriously – would not believe that such a simple plan could be effective even when they're told such plans are often the best. Naruto, while his intelligence is above average, should not necessarily think differently because he lacks experience as his peers do. However, he utilized that tactic and then went straight to the Nara clan grounds, where he visited Shikaku's son; he also spent time with Akimichi Chouza's son, who happened to be there. He treated both as though they were friends, but they remained somewhat reserved."

". . . Like he knows them, but they don't know him?" Orochimaru nodded. "Why did he go there, though?"

"For the same reason you did," Orochimaru answered. "To have a suspicious piece of metal looked at."

Arashi exhaled thoughtfully. "So he _was_ the one who had it cut up."

"It would appear that, since you are telling him nothing, he has decided to look into his situation himself," Orochimaru pointed out.

"_You_ try having kids," Arashi hissed.

Orochimaru held up his hands. "I'm not judging your decision. All I'm saying is that it has apparently led to this. Take that how you will; at the very least it provides an interesting method through which you can observe his new behaviors. Personally, I would say that the fact that he's even looking into his situation in the first place means he most likely _is_ your son, and that whether or not he has truly lost his memories he still recognizes that something around him is amiss. He simply doesn't yet know what it is."

Jiraiya frowned. ". . . Fine," he put in, "except that doesn't explain the way he looked at me when I showed up here." He looked between his friend and his student. "He acted like he thought . . . I was dead."

Arashi leaned forward again and Orochimaru prompted, "Clarify."

"Clarify _what_?" Jiraiya countered. "We were in each other's company for maybe ten seconds. He was in the process of exiting and I was outside the door, and when he saw me his face went sheet-white. At first I thought he was scared for some reason – I didn't know any details about his amnesia, so I thought maybe he didn't recognize me and was afraid I'd hurt him – but then he started to lift his arms like he wanted to . . . _hug_ me. He didn't, though, and then he _ran_, like he was worried he was going to give something away. That's all that happened."

"Which would imply that he does know you, but not the way he should," Arashi mused. Obito opened his mouth, then remembered his previous demotion for speaking out of turn and closed it; he quickly raised his hand instead. The blond successfully contained his laughter, pleased to see he still had his most wayward student firmly in hand. "Go ahead, Obito."

"Just before we came here the first time, he opened a big can of whoop-ass on Orochi-jiisan in the village," Obito reported. Arashi glanced at Orochimaru, who nodded. "It wasn't nearly a big _enough_ can, of course, because he's barely a genin and keeps exhausting all of his chakra trying to sneak around, but . . ." He paused and looked at Arashi, uncertain. "Sensei, Naruto _hates_ him."

"And the question is why," Jiraiya interjected, "when Orochimaru and I are both almost never here, yet he behaved exactly the opposite upon seeing me."

Arashi tilted his head in agreement. "No offense, but I wouldn't have been surprised if he had attacked you and been glad to see Ojisan."

Jiraiya rolled his eyes.

"Why?" Orochimaru asked. "What did he do?"

"I was giving the kid free lessons in paying attention," Jiraiya said archly, in an effort to vindicate himself.

Arashi snorted irritably. "Oh, is that what you call it?" To Orochimaru, he explained, "For three years after Naruto turned seven he hid in various places in the manor and jumped out at the poor kid. Scared him half to death. It traumatized him so badly that he refused to even walk around inside the house unless one of the guards was right beside him." Arashi glared at his teacher. "And he never got over it, either, even after you left. Nothing Hotaru and I said or did could convince him you weren't there. It seems his memory loss, if that's what it is, did him the favor of making that go away, at least."

"We can find out," Jiraiya said brightly.

"_No_," Arashi answered, loudly and immediately, his eyes sharp with warning. "Don't you even _dare_."

"Then it sounds like a blood test and encephalic probe are in order."

Arashi scowled violently in response, but it was obvious that neither Jiraiya nor Orochimaru was planning to budge on the matter. It was one of the things he hated most about being Hokage; when it came down to it, nobody _actually_ listened to him. It was more like they humored him because he was a child who had temper tantrums on a regular basis, and it was merely easier to placate him between disasters by letting him have his way until it came down to the wire on some horrible event.

"That's because you're Hokage," Jiraiya told him pointedly, "and we are your subordinates. Our ultimate duty is to protect _you_, but that's hard to do when you don't give a damn about your own safety."

"Stop reading my mind."

"I _didn't_, Mister Mutters."

Arashi made a face. The reason he did not 'give a damn' was because his Fire had gone. All he had was his Will, and even his Will was wounded and scared. Yet people kept wondering why he acted so strange. Under those circumstances, he would have been an idiot for acting like things were peaches and cream.

"You _do_ realize that the point of this is to help protect Naruto as well, right?" Jiraiya prompted.

Arashi glared again.

"This time it was your face," Orochimaru put in. "You're very expressive."

"_Fine_," Arashi said forcefully, annoyed. "Do your stupid blood test and your stupid encephalic probe."

"Thank you," Orochimaru said. "It will be discreet and you are not, of course, forbidden from attending."

"You're damn right I'm not," Arashi snapped.

"I'll make the arrangements then." Orochimaru vanished in a whirl of leaves. Arashi stuck out his tongue at the empty space and then exhaled slowly.

"He's trying to help _you_, too, you know," Jiraiya noted. "The least you could do is not pout about it."

"I don't need help," Arashi countered.

"I beg to differ," was his teacher's immediate and harsh response. "Seeing as you're apparently content to sit with your thumbs stuck up your ass, you obviously need someone to do what you refuse to."

Arashi ground his teeth again, although his anger did not grow to a point where Obito felt a need to flee the office. "You know," he said finally, "I have tolerated this 'Mommy Hokage' thing for _quite_ some time because even I find it vaguely amusing. But if everyone thinks he's like his mother and believes I'm trying to shelter him because I'm that unstable—"

"Nobody's thinking that, you fool!" Jiraiya barked. "There's no proof of _anything_ right now and everyone _knows_ it. If anyone _is_ thinking like that then they're doing the smart thing and keeping it to themselves or they know every shinobi in earshot would be all over them." He jabbed a finger at his once-student, who frowned sullenly. "I heard that you told Naruto to get some perspective earlier, but maybe you need some yourself. _Stop_ thinking that the world is out to ruin you!"

"Maybe it is!"

"You're just being paranoid!" Jiraiya argued fiercely. "Take some time off and _cool down_!"

"_Time off_?"

"When was the last time you had a _vacation_?"

Arashi opened his mouth to continue the argument, but could not. 'Vacation' was not a word that was in the vocabulary of a typical shinobi. Though certainly a form of employment in itself, ninja did not actually tend to care much about vacations; it was a very specific sort of person – either in a personal fortitude, a personal experience, or both – who could handle the violence and stress and general unpleasantness of the profession, and the few days a month they were allowed to have for themselves was usually enough to keep them refreshed. For those who needed more time, a few weeks of 'training' – not following the precise definition of the word, but something very much like it – tended to be satisfactory to refocus and rehabilitate the mind and body. ANBU, however, were allowed to have up to three weeks' vacation a year because of the sheer brutality of the work they generally did, and while there was no explicit statement that the Hokage could or should take any time off, no one had ever questioned it in prior instances. But taking time off required a bunch of paperwork to be finished _before_ and then a backlog of signatures needed to be provided _after_, and Arashi had seen no point in putting himself under that much pressure, so that more than likely meant he had never had a vacation before as Hokage. Or not within Akiko's lifetime, at least. Hell, once he thought about it he could not recall taking a vacation since he met _Hotaru_.

". . . I don't need a vacation," Arashi said anyway. "I feel fine."

"All the more reason to take one," Jiraiya replied. "If you feel fine then those stress lines on your face have been there for _way_ too long."

The mere _idea_ of a vacation was enough to panic Arashi. He was far from being a micromanager, but the piles of paper that would need his signature if he took even a _week_ off was horrific.

"Sensei's still alive," Jiraiya pointed out. "Take advantage of that while you can."

"There's too much to do . . ."

"Is _that_ what you've been doing while I've been gone? Finding excuses to avoid relaxing?"

"Relaxing means I have to think," Arashi said.

"How terrible," Jiraiya simpered, his sarcasm clear.

"I don't _want_ to think."

"_Tough_. You know, children _do_ act the way their parents act, and you're on the verge – or _presumably_ on the verge – of neurosis. You want to pass that on to them? Has it occurred to you that maybe Naruto acted the way he did before this in part because of your refusal to sit down for a while and just _exist_?"

That was an unpleasant thought, but Arashi could not entirely protest it. Naruto _had_ gotten incrementally worse as he aged, and if Arashi truly thought that he himself had not changed, then none of Naruto's changes should have been nearly so drastic; not before he hit puberty, at least. He put his head down on his desk and groaned at the idea that he had been slowly destroying his children. "No . . ."

"Maybe," Jiraiya added carefully, "you should consider that Naruto is not as much of an individual as you _or_ he might believe. Akiko can't really be trusted because she never knew you before – you being like this is normal as far as she's concerned. But Naruto knew things had changed, and you with them, and he got more and more upset as you put yourself under greater and greater stress."

"He could have said something."

"And had you blow up at him like you just did with Orochimaru and me? No thanks. I don't blame him for keeping his mouth shut. It probably never occurred to him that your condition was affecting his anyway. _Take a vacation_, Arashi, and if you insist on not getting away from your stress because you're too stupid to bother then at least let _him_ get away from _you_ once in a while. You keep yanking his leash like this and one day he'll either chew through it and run off or he'll just choke to death. Because he _is_ suffocating, if you hadn't noticed."

Arashi cringed.

"Okay?"

". . . Okay," Arashi conceded, and he felt no loss whatsoever for the admission; he was not so convinced of his own perfection that he was unwilling to think he might be doing more harm than good. Maybe Naruto _did_ need a chance to get away from him sometimes, much as the thought of his son being out of his sight horrified him. He lifted his head as an idea crept into it. "Since you're demoted, Obito," he said thoughtfully, "you're going to need to find some other way to earn your keep."

"I am your soldier, Hokage-sama," Obito replied quietly from where he had been kneeling on the tile floor since he 'fell', his tone hard to decipher. Perhaps he recognized that he had been allowed to hear a lot more than he would normally have been privy to and was appropriately appreciative of being granted insight into the workings of his field instructor's mind, or perhaps he was still worried he would set off his teacher's temper.

Arashi propped his arm on his desk and dropped his chin into his hand as he doodled absently on a blank piece of paper. Or at least it _looked_ like a blank piece of paper, and when Jiraiya tried to peek underneath to see if it was anything important the blond glared at him until he stood back. The doodling resumed and went on for several minutes, after which Arashi brightened visibly and chirped, "Of course! Silly me . . . Obito, what's the quality of your teaching skills?"

"Poor," Obito replied, too quickly for it to be true.

"You're so modest."

"Not really."

"What about being a jounin-sensei?"

"You said you didn't want to inflict me on anybody's children."

Arashi wrinkled his nose. "Did I? But I inflict you on mine . . ."

"I'm sure I don't know the whole of what goes on in the busy mind of my esteemed leader," Obito noted, in a voice that indicated panic was close to setting in.

"Clearly," Arashi replied dismissively, and then smiled a wide, closed-mouth smile, "or you'd have known thirty seconds ago that I'm going to assign you babysitting duty." He made a shooing motion. "Go up to the house, both of you; I need to make a note to myself and then I'll join you in about three minutes."

Which he did even though he was not entirely expected to, if Jiraiya's raised eyebrow was any indication. But he _had_ to be there, because _he_ was the one who would have to explain to Naruto and especially Hotaru what it was that Orochimaru had insisted on having done to the former. Naruto would almost assuredly understand, even if he was annoyed by the implication, but Hotaru would definitely not be pleased.

"_WHAT_?" she shrilled when Orochimaru appeared with his guests. Rin she did not seem to have a problem with, but though she was not a ninja she still recognized the other one, likely because he was the main reason Arashi had become so against encephalic probes to begin with. "What is _he_ doing here?"

"He's here to perform an encephalic probe," Orochimaru informed her, and she stilled.

Despite her history Hotaru was far from being an uneducated woman, so the big words did not confuse her. She looked at Arashi, who knew exactly what she was thinking because he was thinking the same. They were about to have Naruto's mind checked by the very man who had probed his mother's mind. And the fact was that it was not technically necessary to have _him_ do the check when her patterns were already on file and therefore accessible by any of the ranking psychology experts in the village. "You're not _suspecting_ my son of anything, _are you_?"

"Not him specifically, no," Orochimaru assured her. "You're aware he's been attacked; double-checking his identity and seeking changes to his thought processes gives us a place to start looking for a motive, be it that he's only pretending to be amnestic for some reason or that someone is definitely after him for something he should not have seen or heard but did."

Hotaru frowned, but the idea that Naruto might be in danger made her hesitate to protest too much. Finally, she drew up and said as though bestowing a great favor, "Very well. But be quick and don't frighten him."

Naruto was in the lounge with Hitomi and Akiko, occupying the latter so the former could have a tea break, oblivious to anything that might be wrong. That was another odd but nice change – how interested in and concerned about Akiko he seemed to be. Before he had watched over Akiko, but more as though she was an inconvenience as opposed to someone he actually wanted to be around. And Akiko, who had always looked up to him and wanted to spend time with him, was thrilled by and thriving on his attention.

"Naruto," Hotaru called gently, "a moment?"

"Sure." He looked up, face smooth, but his brows began to draw together when he saw the adults standing in the doorway. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," she promised, but paused unsurely. ". . . It's just . . ."

Arashi moved forward. Hesitation would not do in such a situation or Naruto would get nervous. "We want to check your encephalic patterns for damage and tampering."

It was not _entirely_ a lie.

Naruto shrugged, perhaps a little too readily. Not that it was anything be suspicious of, since few felt their thoughts were free for public consumption but tried to be accommodating to prove their innocence. "'Kay."

He got up and lifted Akiko onto the couch to sit next to Hitomi for the time being, and when he faced the room again the adults had spread out. That was when Arashi saw him stiffen abruptly and go pale for just an instant before his face flushed with anger; he was staring right at Orochimaru, who until that point had been in the back of the group and apparently unseen. What was most striking about the sight was the amount of contained violence roiling behind those suddenly furious blue eyes. But Naruto had always gotten along perfectly well with Orochimaru before – much better than with Jiraiya, at least – and Orochimaru had not been anywhere near Konoha for four years or so. That Naruto should have a problem with him was . . . curious.

"Ojisan," Arashi said.

"Yes, thank you," Orochimaru responded calmly, clearly aware of what was being directed at his back.

Naruto's eyes widened a bit and shifted to Arashi, and when he realized he was being watched he lowered his head and stopped that hateful glaring. He remained angry, but it had been smothered just to the point where one had to know it was there to see it, and when he lifted his head again it was practically invisible. He instead focused on Rin, who was setting up a small microscope on the coffee table against the west wall, and when she approached and asked him to hold out his arm, he asked in turn, "What're you gonna do?"

"I'm just checking for toxins and things," she answered airily. "Especially that anticoagulant you got nailed with earlier today. I need to make sure it's gone, or at least neutralized."

Her voice had given nothing away, and though Naruto extended his arm obediently his eyes narrowed. He looked at Arashi again, skeptical, but Arashi made sure that he was looking elsewhere so he did not have to come up with an excuse; he was well aware of how bad it seemed. The truth might have been better, but Arashi had no idea what the truth even _was_. Everyone kept telling him that no one thought Naruto – regardless of whether they believed he was actually Naruto or a disguised enemy – was a spy, but there was no way that they could _not_ be thinking that under the circumstances. Even _Arashi_ had been wondering, much as he tried to avoid it.

"_Sensei_."

He turned sharply toward Rin, who was standing right by his elbow. "Huh? What?"

"Your arm, Sensei."

"Oh, of course . . ."

As Jiraiya had said, blood tests could be fooled; someone's blood and bone marrow – even that of the dead – could be cultured and sustained through various scientific methods and kinjutsu. Once there was enough it could be transplanted into the body of a completely different person, and though it was extremely expensive in a medical sense it was surprisingly low-risk; it would be worth it for a long-term project like spying on a Kage. Naruto himself had never been in any situation where someone could have acquired a sample of his blood, but his mother was a different story. That meant that Arashi, who had also not had his blood carried off by someone, had to donate a bit of his own for the cause so that Naruto's could be compared with that of both his parents. Whatever Rin took from Arashi would be the 'control', of a sort, since his was the only sample that could be fully trusted.

Once she was done Rin meandered to her microscope, humming to herself, and sat down on the loveseat there as though everything happening was purely routine. No one except Akiko was fooled.

Still, Naruto did not seem _too_ worried when Yamanaka Inoichi knelt in front of him. "Hey there, ossan," he greeted, his voice totally at ease. "How's Ino?"

Inoichi, understandably, was a little startled by the question. He, like the majority of the village, had known that Naruto had awakened from his coma and was in good health again – good _physical_ health, at least – but nothing more. On the other hand, Naruto's previous reclusion was a secret to no one but Naruto, whose sudden friendliness definitely did cause the other end of the conversation some surprise. ". . . She's fine. She's training hard and making both herself and her family proud."

Naruto smiled brightly. "Good." He then blinked and asked, much quieter, "She and Sakura aren't, you know, scratching each other's eyeballs out, are they?"

Inoichi drew back, puzzled. "Haruno Sakura? No. They get along quite well. Why?"

Naruto's brightness increased. "Just wondering! So," he continued with the devilish little grin his mother had always worn right before she did something that she knew would upend the world, "what kind of mind-madness are you going to impose upon my person today?"

Inoichi frowned. "None, I would hope. I'm simply going to scan your encephalic patterns for anything that might help with your memories."

Naruto's smile became a thousand blinding watts of absolutely unadulterated _happy_. _Too_ happy, as far as Arashi was concerned. Another of his mother's traits that warned of trickery. "That's great! 'Cause I'd _hate_ to think I was being suspected of something there's no concrete proof of!"

Silence.

Silence and stillness.

Naruto's smile became a dark smirk. "I didn't think so." He shrugged and leaned his head toward Inoichi, his voice light again as he said, "Go ahead, ossan. I have nothing to hide. So far as I know, at least."

Inoichi looked at Arashi, who moved to sit next to where Naruto was already seated on the floor in front of the couch. Not that it really meant anything if someone or something was lying in wait in Naruto's mind; from the outside there would be nothing that Arashi could do to stop it. Still, he did it because Naruto's playful aggression worried him. The smaller blond had been so young at the time that he should not have had any reason to suspect Inoichi's motives years later. That he did, as well as that he did so in the way he had chosen – a rather blatant mimic of his mother – rang warning bells which Arashi was simply not going to ignore. Slowly, Inoichi placed his right hand on Naruto's head, and both closed their eyes.

For several minutes nothing seemed to happen – that was, unfortunately, how encephalic probes were when the one being probed did not attempt to fight it – but then Naruto said abruptly, "Dad, would you just take it easy? He's not hurting me."

Arashi blinked. "What makes you think I'm worried?"

"You're leaning on me. It's almost difficult to breathe at this point."

Arashi realized that he was indeed leaning heavily on Naruto's left side so that the poor boy was forced to lean equally to the right. He straightened up so that Naruto could do so as well. "Sorry."

"No," Naruto snapped sharply, and Arashi was confused until he ordered, "Don't go that way. I said _don't_ go that way, moron! You're going to get us both—!"

There was a surge of chakra from Naruto, something invisible but very much not human. As was typical of chakra, it passed through his clothes as well as Arashi's and flickered against the elder's skin like the brush of a fire, and Arashi fought to not instinctively recoil from its soundless roar. Then two heads snapped back as though they had been punched in the forehead. Inoichi, who had nothing behind him, dropped to the floor like a stone, out cold. Naruto, who had a couch behind him, slammed into it, then bounced off and toppled sideways into Arashi's lap. He was unnaturally heavy, and a block of ice formed in Arashi's gut when he saw that Naruto's eyes were wide open and staring emptily at the ceiling.

"Naruto? _Naruto_?"

With a gasp like that of a person who had been trapped beneath the surface of an arctic lake, Naruto either came to or came back to life. Both arms flailed, his left hand slamming down onto his chest as though to contain his heart while his right clasped Arashi's shoulder in a white-knuckled grip of iron. He yanked himself upright and, still clutching for stability, began to gag. It turned into a hacking cough that sounded very painful, but finally he stopped and sagged against Arashi's arm, his posture that of someone in great distress. Arashi rubbed his back, not sure what else he could possibly do other than ask questions Naruto was not exactly up to answering right then. Hotaru's hand appeared holding a cup of water, but Naruto shook his head and pushed it aside gently. That put Arashi on alert immediately, for water was essential to life and could only mean something bad if it was refused for no apparent reason, but that was when Rin showed up.

She crouched in front of Naruto and forced him to lift his head so she could look at him, then patted his cheek lightly. "Open up." When he resisted she said with a bit more steel, "Open up or I'll turn you on your head." At that point he complied, though reluctantly, and Rin swiftly reached back into her medical pouch and came up with a gauze pad, which she placed over his mouth. "Spit." He did, and when he pulled back from it the thing was soaked virtually through in brilliant red blood. "It's all right," she said, quickly but confidently, and though she was looking Naruto over Arashi was relatively sure she was speaking to him. "It's just a little chakra backlash. He needs a good night's rest and a bit of iron – _just_ a bit, or you'll poison him – in his breakfast and he'll be fine."

"I've had enough of this," Naruto rasped. "I'm going to bed."

"Good idea," Rin said with a nod. "Don't forget to rinse your mouth."

Hotaru went with him, following closely but staying out of sight as he wobbled toward the lounge doorway. His steps slowed dramatically as he got near Orochimaru, as though he was considering whether or not to attack. For his part, Orochimaru either did not know Naruto was there or was – more likely – ignoring him. Naruto passed him with little more than a glower and exited the room, Hotaru still tagging along. Hitomi also took that opportunity to depart with Akiko, having realized that there would probably be a lot of sensitive information exchanged and that Akiko, in her loudmouthed innocence, would therefore pose a security risk.

Once relatively certain they were out of immediate earshot Arashi snarled at the rest of the room, "What the _fuck_ was that supposed to be?"

"Easy, brat," Jiraiya replied quickly. "We're not going to know until Inoichi's coherent."

"Easy? _Easy_? Naruto was _dead_ in my lap just thirty seconds ago! I think that warrants an answer _now_!"

"Well you're not gonna _get_ it, stupid," the sennin argued impatiently, pointing at Inoichi, "because _he's_ the only one who can give you an idea, unless you want to ask your son."

Inoichi came around within a minute and he seemed perfectly fine but for his disorientation. Orochimaru and Rin offered him some water, which he drank in one gulp. He straightened himself out of his previous sprawl and asked, "What the hell was that?"

"You tell me," Arashi snapped. "That wasn't a pattern scan – that was an _attack_."

Inoichi immediately lifted his hands. "I didn't do it."

"He told you to _not_ go that way," Arashi hissed. "I heard it myself. You _did_ do it because you _didn't obey_."

When Inoichi seemed to have nothing to say in his defense, Orochimaru looked over. "Shouldn't it be of a greater concern to you that there appears to be something inside him?"

"Not at this point," Arashi said. "I know that chakra signature; it's one I trust. And the fact is, I don't find it to be any danger to Naruto. Memory loss isn't a sign of poisoning by a foreign form of chakra, and that particular type of chakra, when not properly controlled, is incredibly parasitic. Seeing as Naruto hasn't been consumed by it or even used it when he goes sneaking around the village, I must assume he has it under control and that it, apparently, is protecting him from psychological invasion. I will, of course, be looking into it to be safe, but digging that up was _not_ part of the arrangement. It could have— No, it _did_ kill him, however briefly."

Inoichi lowered his head and Orochimaru continued with, "Yes, but what would need to be protected? And why would it be protected to the degree that it could kill him?"

"That's what I'm going to find out."

"What _was_ it, though?" Rin asked.

"Large, red, and violent," Inoichi answered quietly. He lifted his gaze to Arashi. "I'm convinced it would have killed me, and perhaps I would have deserved it for going where I wasn't invited, but Naruto diverted most of its power toward himself. If it means anything, between that action and what I remember of his mother's encephalic patterns, I am convinced he is your son, Hokage-sama. Whatever behavioral shift he's dealing with has nothing to do with an outside influence."

Rin raised her hand. "Blood work came through fine, genetically."

Arashi did not miss her implication. "And otherwise?"

"There are some anomalies, but nothing I can identify just with a microscope. They could have to do with the other chakra, the anticoagulant . . . I just don't know yet. But as of now they don't seem to be harming his other cells, so I'm not going to sound an alarm. I'm just keeping you informed."

He nodded. "Look into it; I want a report on my desk by the end of the upcoming week at the _latest_." Rin inclined her head in confirmation of the command and went to gather her gear. Arashi got to his feet and headed for the doorway. "Thank you for sparing me some of your valuable time, Yamanaka-san," he said stiffly as he passed where Inoichi sat, and then he swept pointedly out of the room.

"No offense, Inoichi, but . . ." Jiraiya frowned at Orochimaru, who seemed to be completely unruffled by the ordeal. "What the hell were you thinking, bringing _him_ here when he was the one who—"

Orochimaru tossed his hair over his shoulder as he straightened. "Encephalic patterns marked out on paper are not as easy to compare to their organic counterparts. Inoichi-san, who was directly familiar with one of Naruto's source patterns, was the logical choice."

"I thought you and Arashi had a good relationship because you don't tread on his sensitivities."

"We have a good relationship primarily because I am capable of figuring out what his problems are when he barely knows that they exist," Orochimaru replied. "Don't mistake it for something more than appreciation. I am cheap therapy and a mostly objective party. The only reason that he allowed Inoichi-san into this house was because he already knew my choice was the most accurate one – that Inoichi-san was the best option to provide an absolute, inarguable confirmation one way or the other about Naruto's mental condition. He knew before I even left his office exactly whom I would pick, and it was because of that rationalization that he did not argue. It was not because he trusted me to handle things with care for his eccentricities."

Jiraiya wrinkled his nose. "Now that you've dashed my hopes, I have a question."

"Oh?"

The toad hermit said nothing to him, however, until they had quietly shooed Obito and Rin out the door and helped Inoichi to his feet. They saw him off from the edge of the Monument and stood there a few minutes before Jiraiya asked, "Does the name 'Uzumaki Minato' mean anything to you?"

Orochimaru turned to him and gold reptilian eyes flickered with interest. "Not in itself, no. Where did you encounter it?"

"He wrote it in the margin of a village proposition while discussing Naruto's new behaviors with Sensei," was the explanation. "When he looked at it later, he seemed surprised – possibly even _scared_ – to see it, like he had no idea where it had come from. He tried to act cool about it and throw it away, but . . ."

Jiraiya retrieved the paper in question and offered it to his old teammate, who examined it critically in the moonlight. "Well, you definitely didn't misread it."

"Oi," Jiraiya warned.

"Fascinating. 'Uzumaki' seems relatively obvious, but 'Minato' . . . A name almost counter to his own . . ."

"_Huh_?"

Orochimaru made a faintly disgusted noise. "Aren't you supposed to be a writer? Have you never heard the idiom 'any port in the storm'?"

Jiraiya snorted irritably. "Shut up. We can't all be instant-recall, cross-referencing repositories of useless information. Besides, why the hell would he think up something that unflattering anyway?"

Orochimaru rolled his eyes. "There are a few possibilities. One is that, though I find the possibility more than a little unlikely, Uzumaki Minato is an actual person whose existence we are currently unaware of. Another is that Uzumaki Minato is a pseudonym he's using to denote someone, in this case Naruto, considering when the name appeared. Yet another is that Uzumaki Minato was a name that he came up with for no reason other than to occupy his hand while he talked, but when he saw the surname it disturbed him and he reacted harshly. Another still . . ."

Jiraiya waited, then prompted impatiently, "_Would be_ . . .?"

Orochimaru looked at him sharply. "You accuse me of being an 'instant-recall, cross-referencing repository of useless information', and though it may be considered an uncommon trait I'm hardly _unique_. There is, of course, always the possibility that Naruto might have been a brother long before Akiko's birth, but we simply were neither informed in time nor after the fact. Who, after all, would ever want to think of such a thing again?"

Jiraiya sucked in a breath through his teeth. "Shit. And knowing him . . ."

"Something we tend to forget," Orochimaru agreed softly, "is that part of the reason he got to his position in the first place is because he can hide his pain better than anyone else and make those around him feel as though nothing at all is wrong."

* * *

To be continued in . . . **Chapter 16**** – Lasting Friendship**

Naruto tilted his head briefly, then said, "Uchiha-san, our circumstances are not alike."

"I didn't say a word about either of our 'circumstances', moron," Sasuke snapped. "Whatever the hell it is you think you know about mine."

Rather than argue with him the way the real Naruto would have, especially if the blond had been upset, the Naruto in front of him merely said, "I didn't mean yours," and strode out of the kitchen like he owned it, the little princess. Sasuke considered the merits of going after him and smashing his spiny blond head into a few of the walls around the apartment; for a while the Uchiha had been considering some minor remodeling, and a few preliminary holes would be quite useful. But in the end he chose the far less satisfying path of finishing supper, because he was more hungry than he was interested in fighting. And that was probably Naruto's fault too.

* * *

**Answers To Questions You Didn't Even Know You Wanted To Ask:**

**deno** says: _dude you know fourth's surname but you use arashi his name is minato and nrauto's mothers name is uzumaki kushina you can rewrite that part's easly so why dont you try_ [_sic_]

First of all, that would be dud**ette**. Second, I would like to gently point out that I've said this at least twice by now but possibly even three or four times: **Yes, I am already extremely well aware of canon!Naruto's parents names and there's a very specific reason I'm not using them in parallelverse, which You the Reader(s) will find out about in due course. I realize you're attempting to be helpful and thank you for it, but you can stop now.**

—

**"****Blood tests and an encephalic probe are the least invasive." ; " … and you're on the verge – or **_**presumably**_** on the verge – of neurosis."**

Anything _encephalic_ involves the brain._ Neurosis_ is a blanket term for the mental disorders that will adversely affect the normal function of a brain; anxiety, compulsions, depression, dissociations (multiple personalities), and phobias are examples.

—

**Once there was enough [blood and bone marrow] it could be transplanted into … a completely different person, and though it was extremely expensive in a medical sense it was surprisingly low-risk …**

Blood and bone marrow are both transplantable, as I figure you all know. However, it's not really 'low-risk' because even matching types are subject to the potential of rejection. The chances are better if the transplant can be made within a family, presumably because the DNA is less 'foreign' and thus easier to assimilate. In this case, I am pretending that kinjutsu and medication make this change simpler.

—

**"****Hey there, ossan,"**

I can't recall if I've mentioned this before for _VàV_. If not, _ossan_ is an impolite term for a middle-aged man (and also a term for a Buddhist priest). Like most romanizations of Japanese words, it's very important to get the spelling for this correct and make sure there are two of the letter S, because _osan_ means "childbirth".

—

**" … ****He needs a good night's rest and a bit of iron – **_**just**_** a bit, or you'll poison him … "**

Iron can be, of course, quite poisonous. Women of child-bearing age are less likely to get iron poisoning than a man of any age; indeed, such women are more likely to be anemic (have insufficient blood-iron content). Iron poisoning generally starts with indigestion as the iron reacts with stomach acid and attacks the stomach lining; nausea and vomiting follow. Usually the illness subsides briefly as the iron passes into the intestines, at which point it disperses and attacks internal organs such as the brain, liver, and kidneys. Eventually, the liver in particular will be overwhelmed and shut down, and death is likely to occur.

Iron is, however, essential to human health. And fortunately, since iron is needed by the body, the body does know how to handle it; careful monitoring of how you feel after consuming an iron supplement (it's highly unlikely you'll get iron poisoning from food alone) can alert you to the presence of too much iron in your body; if you feel just a bit ill, an immediate cessation of supplementation (and a call to a doctor or poison center, to be safe) is usually sufficient to deal with a minor overdose. Interestingly, simply coming into physical contact with iron, as in mining, has shown no signs of being poisonous to humans.

—

**" … ****If it means anything, between that action and what I remember of his mother's encephalic patterns … "**

I admit I didn't look **too** hard for this, but I found no scientific acknowledgement that specific patterns of brain waves actually run in a family. Brain **diseases**, possibly, and certainly being raised a specific way will give rise to a specific method of thought, but there's nothing about individual brain **waves**. I leave it to you all to decide whether or not, and in what way, that might be true; for now I don't see how I might need to look too much deeper into the concept, as it serves its purpose as is. The reason I've bothered to include it is because it was the only 'infallible' method of heredity I could think of that **probably** couldn't be tampered with by enemy shinobi (genjutsu alters the various forms of perception, not the brain patterns, or one would not continue to act like oneself while in a genjutsu). Knowing me, I have surely overlooked something far simpler and more realistic (**other** than Naruto admitting he's from a different Konoha).

—

**" … ****Have you never heard the idiom 'any port in the storm'?"**

This is an idiom which obviously has its roots in maritime areas. It's relatively straightforward: "When times are bad, s/he will go anywhere or do anything to get through it." As Jiraiya points out, this isn't a nice thing to say.

—

**Voting is complete!** Sage Mode is in by a thirty-to-one or six-to-one margin, depending on what your choice was. For those who said Sage Mode was something new and didn't want it spoiled, I apologize in advance and assure you that I don't expect to be using it much; I'll do my best to excise or at least minimize any details that are not imperative to the story.

For those of you worried that it might make things too simple, the ones who voted for it did make some very good points about how it won't actually be as useful here, so it'll be harder to rely on it and still stick near canon. On top of that, I **seriously** doubt Sage Mode is ever going to have a big role in _VàV_ anyway because I have a few small techniques in mind that I would like to test, and being Sage isn't required for any of them; further, _VàV_'s story – originally that of _DNT_ – mostly involves Kyuubi and has to hold to essentially that concept.

For those who chose Sage Mode between a fox and toads, I'm afraid the fox was more popular by a two-to-one margin. That will make things a little easier for me, really, and I do think you who voted for the toads will still be satisfied with what I have in mind in that regard if you're just worried about the proliferation of foxes that was in _DNT_ – in other words, there won't be one in _VàV_.

—

It's time to play a quick game of _Draw Your Own Conclusion_! To relax after what he's just been through, Jiraiya's probably going to go peeping. If you review, you won't be at the baths and therefore at risk of being included in _Icha Icha_'s fourth volume, which sounds like it's going to have something to do with some kind of weird harem orgy. Draw your own conclusion.

~RN (LS)


	16. Lasting Friendship

**Author's Notes:** I am, it seems, one step closer to opening my own psychic hotline. As of manga chapter 502, my _Naruto_/_Okami_ crossover fic _Time Frame_ is that much more legit, slightly less than two years before it actually was. Now I admit, I'm still not **perfectly** clairvoyant, but I am beginning to wonder. And not just that, but bits from the manga are becoming eerily simple to slip into _VàV_, either as a future convenient fact or an easily-installed retcon. This may be because I already know the direction _VàV_ is going, or it could be that _VàV_ – being an AU by default – is that lacking in connections to canon that I can twist things without much effort. At any rate, it's **fun**.

Also, apologies in advance – this chapter and the next, but this one especially, both ramble a little bit. But since the canonverse chapters are few and far between, I kind of have to move them along and cram a lot of stuff into a little bit of space.

**Word Count:** 5563 (**Total:** 93702)

**Date Submitted:** 8/1/10

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**Chapter 16**** – Lasting Friendship**

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_"__. . . No . . . You're lying . . . You're lying . . . Please . . . You're lying . . ."_

Sasuke frowned as he finished chopping the garlic cloves and scraped them from the wooden cutting board into the wok. He tossed the sizzling vegetables and herbs gently and used the hissing to cover the cautious peek he took around the doorway to check on Naruto. The blond was sitting on the couch still, exactly where Sasuke had left him about eight hours ago. He had gotten up one time during that interval to go to the bathroom and then he had sat right back down. And no, Sasuke was _not_ worried about the idiot whatsoever; he was _enjoying_ the damnable quiet, really. Nor did his attentiveness have anything to do with how Naruto's reaction to the soft but inarguable revelation of the deaths of his apparent family and friends had been a nearly perfect copy of a very specific seven-year-old boy ten years before.

He nearly dropped the wok when one finger briefly encountered the side of the pan.

". . . Uchiha-san?"

Sasuke bit back a sigh, turned the heat on the range down, and went to the sink to tend his burn. "What?"

". . . I . . ."

Whoever was in his sitting room, it was not Naruto. Or rather, it was a stranger similar to Naruto who was wearing Naruto's face for some reason. Though their familial experience could at last be considered balanced, in a fashion, Sasuke did not pretend to know what was going on inside the blond head; what he _did_ know was there was the cold shock of terrified denial, and that was roughly where his knowledge ended. The Naruto he knew would not have been such a fragile creature – or at least would not have _let_ himself be that way – but seeing it on display in some farcical copy of the blond did not make it easier to deal with. Sasuke could hardly deal with his own issues, so he was certainly not cut out to handle anyone else's on top of it.

". . . I feel sick."

"The toilet's fewer than thirty feet away, thanks," he responded, distracted with his injury. Silence ensued, and Sasuke assumed the problem had been resolved. When he turned away from the sink, however, his heart nearly climbed out of his chest. Naruto was standing behind him, eerily quiet. Tamping down his surprise, he asked, "What do you want now?"

"Let me see your hand."

"Do you mind? I have to— Oi!" Sasuke rolled his eyes toward the ceiling and impatiently held still while Naruto examined his burn, then the blond cradled it in one hand and placed his other lightly atop it. There was a mint-green glow typical of chakra being applied through a healing technique, and when Naruto parted his hands Sasuke stared down at the burn, which no longer existed. He slowly flexed the previously injured finger, surprised, but there was no pain at all. "_You_ know medical techniques?"

That was something of an inaccurate statement. Naruto _did_ know medical techniques – ones learned mostly from Sakura, but he had also wheedled a few from Shizune and nagged still more from Tsunade, who had been glad to escape her paperwork and expend energy trying to teach him because she could also take some of her annoyances out on Konoha's unofficially-designated indestructible stress ball. Admittedly, Naruto's chakra control always had been and probably always would be horrific compared to that of most shinobi, but basic healing techniques were not beyond his ability; once he had discovered that he had snapped it up like it had been a fresh bowl of miso ramen. Assisting iryounin by carrying out even the lowest level of triage, as well as taking on the general healing of shinobi who had already been rescued from the brink of death, saved _their_ chakra and control for those who needed it most. And with such a huge reserve available he could heal others quickly and for hours at a time. Indirectly, Naruto had saved a dozen lives or more since he had learned those techniques, and a first-degree burn would have been easy to fix. It was simply that Sasuke had not been expecting some supposed twelve-year-old crybaby to know any healing techniques at all, let alone be good at them.

Naruto turned away, still wobbling from his altered perspective although he was at least no longer leaning, and mumbled, "Dad taught me a little in case Akiko got hurt."

If the Konohamaru Corps was anything to go by, Naruto with his social ineptness was really a surprisingly great big-brother type. But Sasuke kept seeing it – that flash of resentment that made his scalp itch, that said, _This is not part of me._ Without thinking, he asked, "So hey, who _is_ Akiko?"

Naruto looked back at him, slightly puzzled, and Sasuke instantly took note of how his eyes seemed a bit more red than purple. "My little sister, like I said in the hospital."

Seeing as Naruto's eyes were originally blue, for him the red could indicate nothing but the influence of the kyuubi, regardless of the shape of his pupils. That would have to be watched very closely in the future; if Naruto's use of his own chakra somehow shifted the balance of power and increased the presence of the fox's chakra, because the fox's will tagged along _with_ its chakra – unless they were specifically separated from one another – that kind of usage could cause problems. And other than Yamato, whose wood techniques were not as honed as the Shodai's and therefore relied heavily on Naruto's own will to help tame the fox, Sasuke's compound Sharingan was the only thing that had even a ghost of a chance of reliably restraining the chakra demon. He would have to be prepared to use it at a moment's notice.

Sasuke narrowed his eyes. "Is she really?"

Naruto blinked, surprised, but then he gave a tiny, dark smile. "So they tell me."

In other words, _I don't believe it._

Sasuke's lip curled slightly. "You irritate me."

Naruto seemed somewhat taken aback. "How?"

Sasuke exhaled uncharitably and explained, "If she's of any blood relation to you at all and you have the energy to hate her, you should care about her instead. It's less of an effort."

Naruto tilted his head briefly, then said, "Uchiha-san, our circumstances are not alike."

Oh, he did _not_ just say that.

"I didn't say a word about either of our 'circumstances', moron," Sasuke snapped. "Whatever the hell it is you think you know about mine."

Rather than argue with him the way the real Naruto would have, especially if the blond had been upset, the Naruto in front of him merely said, "I didn't mean yours," and strode out of the kitchen like he owned it, the little princess. Sasuke considered the merits of going after him and smashing his spiny blond head into a few of the walls around the apartment; for a while the Uchiha had been considering some minor remodeling, and a few preliminary holes would be quite useful. But in the end he chose the far less satisfying path of finishing supper, because he was more hungry than he was interested in fighting. And that was probably Naruto's fault too.

The exchange did seem to have one positive outcome, though; the Naruto he was babysitting finally quit with that horrible, pointless moping. At least there was a _point_ to Sasuke's brooding, whenever Naruto complained about it – he was _thinking_ and not just _pitying_ himself. With the mourning done he could hear the blond shamelessly rooting around in other rooms, continuing the nosy investigation that had begun the day before and probably having a grand time making a huge mess of things Sasuke had organized a specific way for a specific reason.

It was like being in charge of a four-year-old.

"What's this?"

Sasuke glanced over at the kitchen doorway, where Naruto had suddenly appeared once again, then said as he refocused on making supper, "A finger trap from Lightning Country." Something Itachi had once brought home for him years earlier. Or, at least, he _thought_ that it had been Itachi, because Itachi had been the only person in his immediate family who encouraged him to be a kid while simultaneously presenting him with logic puzzles.

He had not done anything about the situation because he had expected Naruto, who claimed to be the eldest child of a still-living Yondaime Hokage and was therefore theoretically more culturally aware than most, to nod and put the trap aside. Instead, Naruto proved himself to be a moron regardless of his mental status; he stuck an index finger into one end, and when nothing happened he tried to remove it by pulling hard on it. The trap tightened, of course, and rather than ask for advice Naruto stuck his other index finger into the opposite end and pinched it against his thumb to get leverage. The trap tightened more, naturally, and as he tugged experimentally at the trap's ends the blond gave the braided paper a severe look that worried Sasuke immensely.

The _last_ time Naruto had gotten himself stuck in a finger trap – which Iruka had given him as a souvenir after a six-month teacher-exchange program with Lightning Country, probably under the erroneous assumption that age had granted the idiot wisdom – he had nearly leveled his entire apartment in his panic because it had not once occurred to him that he could ease the pressure the trap exerted, if not get it off entirely, if he just relaxed his hands. Iruka and Kakashi had thought the whole thing was hilarious, which Sasuke supposed proved just how much stress teachers and active-duty jounin were under to not be the least bit concerned that they were ten seconds from a very sudden, very bloody death. Fortunately, Naruto generally considered Iruka to be an authority figure deserving of prompt obedience, so when the chuunin had _finally_ offered to help him Naruto had nearly punched the teacher in the nose in his haste to get free.

So Sasuke turned down the heat on the range _again_ and waited, ready to throw the dope out the window to save his apartment and then go find Iruka, but for once Naruto did not panic. He just tugged again on the trap, sharp blue eyes examining the braided paper from every angle. Then, calmly, the blond pressed his fingers together and used his thumbs to push the trap off. He held it up for an inspection for a moment, and his only comment about the entire thing was, "Dad probably loves these."

He vanished back into the sitting room and Sasuke let out a quiet, irritated sigh of relief before he turned the heat on the range back up.

Supper was quiet, not surprisingly; unlike his Naruto, the Naruto in front of him tended to remain quiet and made little effort to speak while eating unless it was something important. Where his Naruto spoke merely to fill up a peaceful silence, the Naruto across the table kept his every random thought to himself. Of course, Sasuke could not entirely blame Naruto for a need to fill up the silence; having lived with it himself, though not quite as long or under the same conditions, he was aware of how consuming it was. Some laughed at the 'silence is deafening' concept and called it an oxymoron, but they had obviously never had to spend any significant amount of time with it. Sasuke did not know whether he appreciated the change or disliked it, though it was certainly a novel experience.

"I want to take a walk around the village," Naruto said as they finished up. "Is it possible to do that _alone_?"

"Do the dishes first," Sasuke shot back, "and I'll take the risk of you wandering off."

Naruto looked at Sasuke, the sink stacked with dishes, then Sasuke again. His face was twisted in a scowl of anger. "I don't know how."

Sasuke rolled his eyes. Considering what he knew about the strange Naruto's life, it was no surprise that if he could not cook, he could not clean up, either. Still, Sasuke was not going to let that be an excuse. "It's not rocket science, moron. Take the blue dish soap right there. Pour a small amount on the rough side of the blue sponge next to it. Wet the sponge in the water in the sink. Pick up an item out of the sink. Hold the item in one hand. Hold the sponge in the other. Press the rough side of the sponge against the item. Move the sponge over the item firmly, in such a way that the food comes off. If the food builds up, rinse the item and the sponge and start over; repeat this until you can tilt the item in the overhead light and not see food particles still attached. Then make sure the item is rinsed free of soap suds in hot water and place it in the strainer in as vertical a position as possible so water doesn't collect and it can therefore dry fast. Wash the biggest dishes last; they may then be stacked upside down over the ones in the strainer."

Naruto stared at him again, then prompted, "Why can't _you_ do it?"

"Because _I_ made us food, princess," Sasuke snarled. "If you don't want to do the dishes, learn to _cook_. This is a normal, balanced procedure between roommates – one cooks, the other does the dishes – with the only exception being when each person both cooks strictly for himself _and_ does his own dishes. _Pick one_."

Naruto looked at the sink once more. ". . . What are you going to do?"

"Shower," Sasuke snapped, "because I was bent over a hot stovetop just before we ate. And if you think you can sneak out of here while I'm doing that, think again. Those dishes will sit there and get crusty and harder to wash, and when we run out of dishes I'll simply stop cooking and buy myself meals around the village. You, seeing as how you have no access to funds, will starve to death in short order unless you move into the forest and catch squirrels." He turned away. "And don't think you'll outwait me. You _can't_." Sasuke had fully expected the blond to be gone by the time he got done showering – although he would rather have that happen than have a cup of ice-cold water poured on his head as had happened before – but instead Naruto was still in the kitchen, plate in one hand and sponge in the other, gazing vacantly into the water. "What's wrong _now_?"

Naruto looked at him. "I'm waiting for the water to cool down. It's too hot."

Sasuke successfully refrained from slapping either his own forehead or the blond's face. "It's _supposed_ to be hot to help soften the food that might be stuck."

"But it's burning my hand."

Sasuke stared at him, eyes squinted slightly in disbelief. Then he sighed loudly. "_Look_, just . . . dip the one end of the sponge into the water and use it, then switch to the other end for the next dish. Or you can pinch the soft side and touch it to the water. The water will cool down eventually and your hand will get used to it."

Naruto focused hesitantly on the water.

Sasuke was not used to seeing Naruto _dawdle_ over something so stupid. The blond was known for badly abusing his own body, and not just during fights. He was usually willing to stick his hands _anywhere_ out of sheer curiosity; he had jammed his right hand into a knot in a tree once and been bitten repeatedly by half a dozen vipers. His survival had not been a concern, thanks to the kyuubi, but he had been in agony for three days. Two days after he was released from the hospital, he stuck his left hand down what he had thought was a gopher hole to see if there was anything there, only to have a weasel climb his arm and chew the hell out of it. Top that off with the accidental stab wounds from kunai and shuriken and the calluses from years of practice, and the flesh of the blond's hands was just a few steps down from leather. _Never_ had Naruto complained about the temperature of washing water other than the occasional theatrical howl of pain that Sasuke barely heard and never paid attention to anyway.

He frowned. "Naruto, whatever _issue_ you have, get over it. As the water gets cold the food will be harder to clean off, so you might as well start working and just deal with the pain." He left the blond to either figure things out or sulk, and settled himself in an armchair in the sitting room with a novel which Sakura had recommended. He had examined it cautiously before accepting it, but there was no romance and no fantastically improbable plot, so he was finding it quite engaging. As a result, he was not sure exactly how much time had passed when Naruto exited the kitchen, his hands pink and his palms wrinkly.

"I'm done," he announced. "I'm going for a walk."

"All right," Sasuke acknowledged, and then added automatically, because it was Naruto and despite that he was almost never obeyed anyway, "Don't get into trouble." He eyed the blond and said, "Or fall down."

Naruto left the apartment, and for a few hours after that Sasuke was blissfully occupied with his novel of vengeance, justice, and immaculate white doves. Well, he could handle two out of three; besides, while they were ultimately superfluous to the story the doves were still smart and well-trained, so he excused their being included. It was when he reached the halfway point in the book, as well as a new chapter – always the best place to stop for a bit – that he checked the time finally. It was after midnight and Naruto had not returned. Sasuke did not believe for a minute that the blond was in any danger, but figured there was no harm in at least checking up on him. He peeked into the kitchen as he passed and found the dishes stacked in the strainer as neatly as could be expected from a total novice; nice to see, but it was a certainty that Naruto had not flipped the garbage disposal on for a few seconds to take care of the sodden food bits. Well, that could be tended to at any time. Whiny blonds came first.

A quick check outside offered no sign in the immediate area, which meant he probably was not on his way back yet. Sasuke headed out into the village and paid no attention to the stares and frowns directed his way. He was used to them and had never worried much about what others thought of him to begin with; it had always been others who had voluntarily approached him with their condolences or date requests or, most recently, quiet wary words and sometimes even a few curses from the particularly uninspired members of society. Though Sasuke would definitely never tell Naruto and probably ultimately did not have to, the blond was the one who protected – for lack of a better word – Sasuke from the worst of the village's scorn.

"_The only thing that can save a fire and give it strength is wind."_

Naruto had told him that once during one of their worse arguments, for apparently no reason, and at the time Sasuke had shrugged it off as one of the blond's moments of random regurgitated thought. It could have been something with deep meaning, sure, but without context it had fallen rather flat. As usual, though, Sasuke had since learned the story behind that particular sentence and realized the blond had been thinking years ahead of the moment in which he had been standing. Considering Naruto's standard behavior, that kind of forethought was staggering and irritating, but it also indicated a kind of empathy that made Sasuke a little uncomfortable.

Until he was twelve, Naruto had never had people to talk to on a regular basis and therefore knew next to nothing about interacting with those around him. Through observation and painful trial-and-error – because few had the time, patience, and interest to even attempt to teach him – he had at no time learned more than the absolute, most _basic_ social niceties, and even then he tended to mix them up or forget them altogether. He was constantly treading on peoples' toes without meaning to, and was too stubborn to admit he had no idea what he was actually supposed to do or say in various situations. Iruka – and subsequent teachers – had attempted to school him in proper behavior, but the blond did not learn quickly; especially not things he perceived to be boring.

At the same time, though, Naruto had learned something of infinite importance. He learned to read people, and he learned to read people _thoroughly_. It was a quality with which Sasuke had a love-hate relationship, because he could barely stand it when the blond would out of the blue start nagging him to 'relax for once', but Sasuke had been through so much in his life that he both had trouble with and no real interest in sharing his feelings. It was both vaguely annoying and more than a little reassuring to know that _someone_ could and did not mind wading through his snarky comments and wordy bluster, and Naruto could see through the dust storms he stirred up as though they were glass. Because Naruto _knew_ what it was like to be a pariah, and he knew the exact lies the pariah would tell to make himself seem invincible. Not that Sasuke felt he needed the approval of the village, which Naruto seemed to, but it was good to have a friend who was reliable at least in one way.

Which was ultimately the problem he was dealing with, Sasuke decided; without realizing it, he had been using Naruto's absolute acceptance of him as a crutch for his instability. Naruto had always been that way with him – always seen their similarities, way back when they were still in single digits – but it took the blond having memory problems, or some other encompassing fantasy of losing a family who did not exist, for him to see that himself. And that loss, be it real or imagined, was so concrete and vivid in the blond's mind that he was behaving in a way both familiar and a bit frightening to Sasuke. He was displaying his insecurity.

Naruto's insecurity had always been there but swept neatly under a rug – only those who looked for it could see it. That was because people who hated unequivocally were notably less than animals, and they attacked any and all weaknesses they encountered in a perceived enemy, so it was no surprise that Naruto defended himself the way he did. He also did it that way because he did not really know how to deal with it, and it was easier to hide insecurity than face it and worry about how it would be perceived. Sasuke could understand that thought process because he also did not interact well with people on an emotional level. Much of that was choice, another part was the standard Uchiha aloofness, and the rest was the same thing Naruto had, only generally less obvious because he did not have the big mouth the blond had. Often – particularly in his dreams – Sasuke discovered that he was still just seven years old, even after everything he had done to gain strength to grow. It was the reality of his life and Naruto's – they were emotionally stunted. Naruto had been forced to be that way thanks to the village's rejection, and Sasuke had been forced to be that way because Itachi had wiped out their family and he had been too scared of being hurt further to allow himself to be adopted by the families who had kindly offered to take him in after his clan's death.

That, of course, always seemed to beg the unspoken question of who had suffered the most in life. It might have been possible that Naruto's near-lifetime of loneliness and forced isolation were far worse than the loss of that blessed fragment of heaven Sasuke had experienced as a child, but on the other hand, while Sasuke might not have been able to understand how the village reviled the blond for a situation he had no control over, Naruto had never had his entire life ripped out from beneath him like a rug in need of cleaning. Not that the answer to the question mattered any longer; it seemed like they were beginning to experience one another's previous situation, and Sasuke was finding the exchange no more satisfying than their previous arrangement.

After so long, Naruto was finally being acknowledged by Konoha. Or at least in part. Even when they had hated him the shinobi had always been just a bit more accepting of him than the civilians, who did not understand chakra and seals, and Sasuke had found upon his return that Naruto had at last managed to chip out a place in the village. In one instance he had even witnessed a pair of bypassing chuunin stop and scold a fifteen-year-old civilian girl for snapping at the blond and calling him 'garbage' for a minor shoulder-bumping infraction in a very crowded street – something they likely would not have done before. That was a form of the protection Sasuke had enjoyed as a child – the civilians' verbal succor and goodwill had fended off the silent displeasure of the shinobis' knowledge that one of their own had apparently cracked and gone rogue; though Sasuke had never been outwardly blamed for his brother's actions, he was also the only representative of the family remaining and thus symbolized his brother as much as the clan. Top that off with Naruto suddenly apparently learning what it was like to lose a family he truly loved despite how he seemed to dislike some aspect of it, and for all the times Sasuke had privately snorted about how the blond would never be able to handle being orphaned after having a _real_ family, actually seeing it made Sasuke extremely uncomfortable.

It hit far, far too close to home, and that was doubtless why Sasuke had never considered it before then.

Once he got bored with wandering and thinking and actually went to the trouble of consciously _looking_, it was surprisingly – alarmingly, really, but no Uchiha would ever admit to being alarmed – easy to find the blond. That was because Sasuke began to pick up the kyuubi's unique chakra, which was definitely not a good sign. The real Naruto seemed to have reached some kind of accord with the fox – he had never explained it and Sasuke had never cared enough to ask so long as it was not harmful to the blond, which it did not appear to be – but that was no guarantee that the Naruto present knew anything about the fox to begin with. _That_ version of the idiot referred to it as female, but that was all he had ever offered. It was when Sasuke finally reached the location of the chakra – the front of the old Hokage manor atop the Monument, in which no one had lived since the Fourth and his wife had died – that he decided he had to act very carefully indeed.

Naruto was there, all right, but he was standing with his back to the Uchiha and was wrapped in what had once been termed the 'Fox Cloak' – the bubbly, warty red chakra that normally emerged only during the times when the blond was very emotional. Up to three tails, Sasuke had been told, Naruto was physically himself even though his intellect was deteriorating; he could still be reached and brought back to himself, though seals and containment techniques helped. _"After three tails . . ."_ as Kakashi had once said, _". . . Well, I suppose it's a good thing you're used to having your head jammed so neatly up your ass, because if he ever has more than three tails you'll probably want to bend over real quick and kiss it goodbye. Just for safety's sake, in case you aren't allowed the chance later. He moves __**extremely**__ fast after three tails, and I don't mean from the perspective of a normal eye."_

At no earlier point had Sasuke been worried about that. He would _never_, even under threat of a tortuously painful death, tell anyone that he had no doubt that Naruto, when it came down to the wire, could dominate the fox's influence and power. Of course, he had heard retellings of the horror stories – but they were _honest_ retellings, which made them both bearable and trustworthy in Sasuke's mind – that were Naruto's losses of control, but he also knew that the blond learned very quickly from his mistakes, particularly the ones he made during battle. And indeed, while no one else seemed to know more than the fact that he had once gone to seek help regarding the kyuubi's will and chakra, Sasuke was well aware that Naruto had been working with the kyuubi in secret to try to tame and wield its amazing strength. The blond had even attempted to use it against him during a sparring match, and though that had not turned out very well Sasuke conceded that it certainly could have turned out far worse.

Right at that moment, however, he did not trust the Naruto he was babysitting to have any such control at all. Not only had the blond been emotional virtually since he got out of bed that day, but since he had awakened in the hospital his purple eyes had warned of a possible manipulation issue. Sasuke kept some chakra at the ready near his eyes, just in case, but called casually, "Come on, Naruto. Let's go home."

The blond's definition of 'home' had always been rather loose; 'home' was far more a feeling or a state of mind than it was a place, and Sasuke's using the term in reference to his own apartment was something Naruto had never before bothered to blink at. The Naruto with him, though, turned to glare, his pinched face covered with tear marks. "Home? _Home_? _What_ home? Everyone is _dead_ and I—"

Sasuke rolled his eyes and made a disgusted noise. "Shut _up_."

"_You wanna FIGHT_?"

Sasuke snorted. "Maybe as a warm-up for somebody who's worth my time." He lifted his chin sharply at the blond. "What is it that you think hovering and sobbing about it will do? _Move on_."

"What do you know?" was the predictable shriek.

"I know that my entire clan is dead," he snapped back furiously, his teeth grinding. "I know that my family is _gone_ and I know that me wandering around the compound like a ghost of what was won't miraculously revive them. I know that feeling sorry for myself won't get me a damn thing. I know that it's going to hurt like hell for the rest of forever. I know that I have to accept it and walk on, even if I also know that I'll never get over it. I know that it's not easy to deal with," he added, his voice softer, "but I know that I can. I know that I _will_."

He did _not_ just paraphrase something his Naruto had once told him. Never.

The Naruto standing before him stared, wide-eyed – stunned and apparently _offended_ by his rare display of compassion, the unappreciative little bastard – then let out a choked, pained howl of outrage and lunged toward him. Even with the long arms of the kyuubi's chakra being wielded with surprising accuracy, Naruto was far from being any kind of challenge. Sasuke deflected what should have been a powerful attack with his left hand and then slapped the blond into the dirt with his right, and much to his dark delight Naruto stubbornly got back up and attacked again. That was more like what he was used to.

He ended up beating the crap out of the blond, which was not nearly as satisfying as it would have been had his opponent been an even slightly more qualified ninja; really, the total lack of skill his ward suffered embarrassed _Sasuke_, which was quite annoying because Uchiha were never embarrassed about anything. On the other hand, the violence did seem to help – at the very least it gave Naruto something more productive than his misery to focus on – and Sasuke figured that was good enough. Pain, physical or mental, helped shape a person more than any number of happy memories could hope to, and it was ultimately necessary for healing. Still, dwelling incessantly on a pain was like picking a scab; it would never heal properly. Distracting the blond would let him clear his mind and organize his thoughts better so he could deal with his pain with at least a smidge of objectivity.

After all, maybe wind did save a fire and give it strength, but it was fire that kept the wind warm and dry.

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To be continued in . . . **Chapter 17**** – Dual Interludes**

"_Shh_!" he hissed, and she clapped her hands over her mouth. "Aya's going to make breakfast in a few hours and Mom and Dad will _really_ be upset if you don't eat all of it." He closed the box of crackers and tightened the lid of the mustard container, then put both away, Akiko clutching at his shirt hem like before. "Do you want some milk before you go back to bed?" She nodded, so he warmed a small child's mug of milk – a trick he had picked up from Sakura and Sasuke during a majorly lame D-rank babysitting assignment – and then ushered her toward the kitchen doorway, at which point he came quite close to an episode of cardiac arrest because he suddenly realized someone was _watching_ them.

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**Answers To Questions You Didn't Even Know You Wanted To Ask:**

As I said before, apologies for the rambling, near-preachiness of this chapter. But since canonverse chapters don't show up frequently, I need to put more into them to cover both parallel!Naruto's issues and how time has passed for those in canonverse since Sasuke's return to Konoha. And I'll admit it – Sasuke has honest psychological problems too, even though he's definitely gone about handling his trauma entirely the wrong way; those need to be addressed. Future canonverse chapters will move along a bit faster and smoother because canon!Naruto in parallelverse will discover important things that will reduce the need for literary stagnation in canonverse, and depending on how that works out I may end up trimming a bit from this chapter. If not, I'm afraid it'll have to stay awkward.

In any case, I'll keep the big bore this chapter is in mind. I admit that chapter seventeen is already finished, but since I haven't started on chapter eighteen at all yet I'm going to hold off on posting it for a bit.

—

**… ****and a first-degree burn would have been easy to fix.**

A _first-degree_ burn includes redness of the skin and pain – the equivalent of a minor sunburn where the damage is only to the topmost layer of skin, which generally doesn't peel; a _second-degree_ burn includes red skin, pain, and blisters – the equivalent of a bad sunburn where the damage reaches into the deeper layers of skin, which does peel; a _third-degree_ burn includes a white appearance and/or a fixed reddish stain where physical sensation is often lost – the damage can reach to the bone and can be characterized by the loss of hair follicles and charring of the flesh, which leads to scarring. To react swiftly in regards to the hydration, infection, and sanitation of the burn(s), most medical personnel will diagnose these degrees in variations of "thickness" – generally _superficial_, _partial_, and _full_.

The _fourth-degree_ burn technically doesn't exist; burns of the third degree actually cover everything that might be described as being of the fourth degree. However, the term is often used to describe particularly bad burns; I once saw a brief television reenactment of a girl who was "surfing" on the hood of a car, was rolled off accidentally, and somehow got one knee jammed up into the engine compartment. She was described as having burns of the fourth **and** fifth degrees, which included serious charring and scarring of her bones. Scary.

—

**… ****Yamato, whose wood techniques … relied heavily on Naruto's own will to help tame the fox …**

This is right, isn't it? I'm pretty sure I didn't just pull it out of my butt.

—

**"****A finger trap from Lightning Country."**

Context clues should tell you this is indeed a Chinese finger trap, localized for the Narutoverse. And for those who might be wondering, that parallel!Naruto figured out the trick while canon!Naruto couldn't isn't an implication that parallel!Naruto is smarter than canon!Naruto. At most it indicates that parallel!Naruto tends toward logic while canon!Naruto is more emotional. I'll probably bring this difference up again at some future point, but since it's not plot-essential I wanted to clear that up right away.

—

**Naruto's insecurity had always been there but swept neatly under a rug …**

Naruto is – or at least was – an **extremely** insecure person. I don't think anyone has ever said it outright, but that was exactly the reason why he pranked everyone; his need to 'be noticed' is classic insecurity. Iruka also acted out for the same reason, but he's figured out his place since then. In Part II/_Shippuuden_, Naruto is **less** insecure because there are more people who accept and acknowledge him, but there are moments – particularly in his training – where his repeated failures get the best of him and he displays mild signs of that insecurity. He generally doesn't let that kind of negative thinking control him, though; rather, he realizes what it is and **refuses** to let it control him because that would only be going back to being everybody's welcome mat.

—

**Often – particularly in his dreams – Sasuke discovered that he was still just seven years old, … **

I have never seen Sasuke (day)dream of fighting, let alone defeating, Itachi and being older than seven. Perhaps that perception of himself is a metaphor for his feeling that his life ended at that time, but it still means he views himself – in some way – as being seven years old.

—

**That, of course, begged the unspoken question of who had suffered the most in life.**

This is a matter of personal perspective. While the death of his clan is obviously incredibly traumatic, I also think that there are many things Sasuke could have done to improve his situation (though, admittedly, some of those may have been impossible if we ever find out exactly what happened in the days after the clan-slaughter). Naruto, by contrast, had no way at all to improve his situation because everyone hated and feared him, and no one would **let** him improve. Nor did Gaara, whom everyone hated and feared even before he bothered to use that to intimidate them all. Or Haku – that poor boy was subsisting on **garbage**, for crying out loud, and I'm positive Sasuke never had to do **that**.

—

It's **POLL TIME** again! This time you're voting on the value of the supporting characters, specifically regarding Naruto's peers. Do you feel their parallel selves may be necessary to deciphering parallel!Naruto's behavior? Would you prefer it if they had a purpose rather than just being randomly introduced and removed? Would you rather they be excluded entirely? Make a quick trip to my profile and vote! As always, feel free to elaborate on your preference in a review or PM; ideas regarding these characters' personalities, appearances, and interactions with Naruto are not necessary but always welcome, and anything I use will be credited appropriately, of course.

—

It's time to play a quick game of _Draw Your Own Conclusion_! Now that he's pummeled parallel!Naruto, Sasuke is looking for others to practice new and dangerous techniques on so he'll be ready for canon!Naruto's return. If you review, you will be too busy to "assist" him. Draw your own conclusion.

~RN (LS)


	17. Dual Interludes

**Author's Notes:** Today is my birthday. However, _you_ are getting the present – a new chapter! Unfortunately, it's another not-terribly-exciting chapter, so I once more apologize in advance for that, but it gives Naruto what I feel is a necessary and long overdue interaction with and examination of Akiko's personality. For those who enjoy Yondy/Naruto moments, there's some here for you as well. And for those looking for some clues about Hotaru, I haven't forgotten her – just put her on hold for another chapter or so since her role isn't quite as simple as Akiko's.

**Word Count:** 5975 (**Total:** 99677)

**Date Submitted:** 9/2/10

* * *

**Chapter 17**** – Dual Interludes**

* * *

"What a prick," Naruto grumbled as he rolled unhappily out of bed, dragging his blanket with him to fend off the shivers. He wrapped the blanket around his shoulders and held it tight as he left his room, allowing it to _swish_ softly over the cold hardwood floor. "He and Sasuke deserve each other."

Prick or not, though, the dream – if it was a dream – had slammed him hard in the heart. A variation of that exact scenario was what he could be expecting when he returned home – that same, abrupt separation – and he was not looking forward to it in the slightest.

His ears attuned for the slightest noise of being followed or an attack, he wandered the dark house in silent distress. He had never been good with dealing with bad dreams and outright nightmares; no one had ever taught him how. And he had never bothered to ask because their frequency had diminished as he aged – most of them had been about Kyuubi and its reign of terror, but later ones had involved being abandoned – so it had not crossed his mind until he suffered one. Top it off with the fact that Naruto was a surprisingly private person regardless of his apparent extroversion, be it some naturally-occurring trait or a result of his unique circumstances, and discussing most of his dreams became virtually impossible because of their sensitive natures. He did not need or want people pitying him because of mere dreams, so he kept them to himself. Unfortunately, that left him hanging when it came time to deal with another one, but he had an answer for that which had seen him through the worst of them; he had simply turned his bedroom light on and sat awake the rest of the night. Still, in Naruto's mind Kakashi had possessed the overall best answer for nightmares.

He did not know if he was the only one who had done it, but there had been a few instances out in the field where he had suffered a nightmare and awakened terrified out of his mind. Initially, Kakashi had been awake too, whether out of a sensitivity to his surroundings or because Naruto had simply been making that much noise or both, and had gestured for him to lie nearby. Naruto had at first thought the suggested change in location meant nothing but had complied to avoid an argument, and since they had been going to or returning from an assignment he had been pretty tired and fallen asleep again despite fervent efforts to the contrary. He had awakened the next morning to the discovery that the nightmares had not come back, a realization which had been big medicine even though he had never figured out the exact reason why. So with all following nightmares, if he could, Naruto had readily moved to lie against the jounin's back or side, and though his presence had only occasionally been acknowledged those times he had also never slept and experienced another nightmare. In all that time Kakashi had never asked about it, just let him do things his way, something Naruto had always deeply appreciated. However, that was also leaving him in a bit in the lurch under the circumstances, not that he could blame anyone but himself.

He eventually found his way into the kitchen, where he ducked briefly into the pantry and came back out with a bagel. He leaned against the sinks and ripped little pieces of the bread free, then popped them into his mouth and chewed slowly, his gaze unfocused. _Anything_ to keep his brain occupied, however minor the occupation might have been. Within a few minutes, though, he could tell that he was being watched, and from somewhere very close by. Yet it was not any threat he could imagine.

He looked down and spotted Akiko standing by his left leg, gazing at him with hazel eyes so solemn they were found only on the faces of the starving or the conniving. Having used that very tactic before, he was aware that his heartstrings were being plucked but ignored it. She was perfectly well-fed, he rationalized carefully as she turned the intensity of her piteousness to 'high'; she did not need a midnight snack. Hell, _he_ did not need a midnight snack. Or a two a.m. snack or three a.m. snack. Whatever time it was. He stuck another shred of the bagel in his mouth and continued to chew slowly while he stared back at her with eyes that were as bored as hers were solemn – something to thank Kakashi for; he was a master at effecting boredom – then asked in a distinctly flat tone, "So whatsa matter, butt munch?"

"Niichan, 'm hungry," she mumbled as she twisted her pastel-shaded nightgown in her hands. Her dark hair was hanging around her little face, which he found strange because he had never seen her with her hair in anything other than a set of tiny pigtails that bounced and flopped like dog ears whenever she moved. But with her hair down she looked a _lot_ like her mother, in the same way he looked so much like the Fourth.

"You should be in bed," he responded as he flicked another morsel of bagel into his mouth. He wondered vaguely why he was eating something so dense right before he slept. And they were carbs on top of it. Well, unlike his sister he would work them off easily enough during his training; he could cheat a little.

"But 'm _hungry_," she insisted.

"Then you should have eaten more at supper."

She pointed at him accusingly. "You too!"

_Ouch. Caught by a toddler,_ Sarcasm snickered.

"I'm not eating because I'm hungry," Naruto answered. "And it's a bad habit to start, quite frankly."

"But I _am_ hungry!" Akiko insisted. They went on staring at one another, one still noticeably bored while the other grew more frustrated, until finally the latter pointed at the former and cried, "I'm going to tell Mommy and Daddy you're being mean to me!"

Spoiled children were the worst, Naruto already knew, and he would be damned if he let his sister turn into such a thing. He snapped the fingers of his free hand in her face to break her concentration and said sharply, "_Hey_. Don't talk to me like that or _I'll_ tell Mom and Dad what happened and you'll _definitely_ go to bed hungry. Because we _both_ know you'll get in _big_ trouble if you're caught out of bed this late at night."

She pouted. "But 'm _hungry_ . . ."

"Then _ask_ and don't make a demand," Naruto told her. "Just telling me that you're hungry isn't a request for my help – you're informing me of your digestive status. Besides, if you were hungry why didn't you eat all the food on your plate during supper?"

"I wasn't hungry then!"

"No," Naruto countered, "it means you were already _full_. You got into the sweets in the pantry, didn't you? I saw the jar when I went in there just now, and nobody would have done things that way except for someone who couldn't hold the whole lid in one hand. Which means _you_." Akiko's gaze dropped to the floor. "You _know_ you're not supposed to do that."

"_You_ do it!"

"But I still manage to eat my supper, don't I?" Naruto argued firmly, even though he himself had not made a move toward the sweets jar since his arrival at the manor. "Because I know how to not spoil my appetite. That's a privilege I'm allowed because I _control myself_."

Akiko opened her mouth, but paused and closed it. She considered, then looked at him and said, "Niichan, I did a bad thing and I'm sorry. But I'm hungry now. Please help."

Naruto looked at her new and genuine piteousness and grimaced internally at the realization of how easy he actually was. He crouched in front of her and said pointedly, "I _should_ make you go back to bed, you know, as a consequence of what you did earlier."

She tilted her head. "Consee . . . Conseck . . .?"

"Consequence. It means _result_, and sometimes it's a bad thing. The _result_ of you eating so many sweets was that you weren't hungry at supper, and then the _result_ of you not eating all of your supper is that you're hungry now. By doing one bad thing you put yourself at twice the risk; first you ate too many sweets, which Mom and Dad would be angry at you for, and now you're hungry and had to sneak out here and risk Mom and Dad catching you. And if they _do_ catch you then you'll have to tell them why you're up and around, and they probably won't believe that you were trying to go to the toilet."

It was kind of scary, how he could open his mouth and a modified version of Iruka would come out.

"I'm sorry," she said again, her eyes and voice solemn.

"You're also insisting on my complicity – on me helping you – with your bad behavior, which puts _me_ at risk of getting in trouble as well because I supported you."

The tears came then, and Akiko sniffled before flinging herself at him. "Niichan, 'm _sorry_!"

As he caught and hugged her Naruto thought he might have gone a little too far, but maybe the horror of it would make her think next time. A bit awkwardly – because he still was not used to normal hugs even though he received them at regular intervals, let alone the type of hug that asked for reassurance – he rubbed her back and said, "Don't worry. You apologized and I believe that you mean it, so I won't tell on you this time. Let me get you a little something so you can sleep, okay?"

She nodded meekly and held tightly to the hem of his plain white tee-shirt as he went into the pantry again; he grabbed a box of crackers and stepped back out into the kitchen, where there was a bit of moonlight streaming through the window over the sinks that they could eat in. Akiko insisted on sitting in his lap, which he did not really mind except for the moment when she – as innocently oblivious as any child – jammed her knee into his personal equipment as she climbed into place. Then, once she had settled _just so_ and he had offered her a cracker, she asked for mustard on that please, but then playfully refused to get up so that he could get to the refrigerator. He ended up scooting across the cold tile on his butt, much to her delight, and retrieving the requested condiment, then scooting back to the crackers. Akiko was partial to mustard-smeared crackers, apparently, so Naruto – never one to skirt a learning opportunity – tried it himself after only a momentary inner debate.

Though not a huge mustard fan it could certainly have been far worse, and Akiko seemed so pleased that he had tried it that he had a few more tainted bites just to see her grin exactly the way he had seen himself do in mirrors before. Clearly they both had inherited their father's smile, a fact which made him love her more. They were true, honest-to-goodness _siblings_. He squeezed her happily and said, "You're so _cute_!" and she giggled in response and snuggled into his arm. Cracker crumbs scraped over his skin – not that he really _noticed_, considering everything else his skin had already encountered – and he decided it was enough for her. They had been having so much fun, sitting there in the darkened room and snickering about breaking the house rules and not being caught, that he had not been monitoring how much she had eaten; if he let her have any more she would eventually not want breakfast.

"But I'm still hungry!" Akiko protested, her voice unusually loud in the empty room.

"_Shh_!" he hissed, and she clapped her hands over her mouth. "Aya's going to make breakfast in a few hours and Mom and Dad will _really_ be upset if you don't eat all of it." He closed the box of crackers and tightened the lid of the mustard container, then put both away, Akiko clutching at his shirt hem like before. "Do you want some milk before you go back to bed?" She nodded, so he warmed a small child's mug of milk – a trick he had picked up from Sakura and Sasuke during a majorly lame D-rank babysitting assignment – and then ushered her toward the kitchen doorway, at which point he came quite close to an episode of cardiac arrest because he suddenly realized someone was _watching_ them.

He had a good sense for that from childhood, from all the time spent picking up on the intent staring of a person who was having ill thoughts of him or taking aim with a weapon, and academy training had only improved it. By no means was Naruto as good as Kakashi – who seemed to know when people were even _thinking_ of watching him – but he was good enough that he had no reason whatsoever to doubt himself. He stopped Akiko with one hand and tried to pinpoint the source. The ANBU guarding the manor, even if they had not recognized Akiko's voice for some reason and checked on them, would only have glanced through one of the windows, not _stared_. Reaching out with his chakra would normally have been his next step, but even though he had recovered some during sleep it was not the most subtle way to do things; since his power was unreliable and Akiko might be defenseless if the ANBU were missing and something knocked him out, he had to be cautious.

His answer was to stretch his neck and sniff with Kyuubi's nose and his own mouth. It had taken a long time for him to learn to smell accurately that way, but he had put a full month into the effort because a scent inhaled through the mouth strengthened the overall smell and made identification faster when more was being drawn in at a time. Plus, it was far harder for an enemy to detect from a distance unless one had super-ears. Despite its usefulness, however, Kiba and Kakashi were the only ones who did not pick at him for it. Not that he cared much, because he had already proven his skill with it during assignments.

Unfortunately, he could find no significant trace of the scent he knew had to be there, which only alarmed him more. He crept to the kitchen doorway, Akiko pulling on his shirt in her silent fear – she seemed to have picked up on his tension and realized that something was wrong, but blessedly remained quiet – and gradually stuck his head through the doorway.

Kyuubi suddenly sighed, clearly exasperated. _It's your sire, idiot. His scent isn't __**that**__ similar to yours that you should be having trouble catching and identifying it._

_It's your lucky day, isn't it?_ Sarcasm jabbed. _But you can't beat __**him**__ into submission, weakling._

_How long as he been there?_ Naruto asked the fox.

_Some time,_ was the response. _I believe he was mostly listening, though, which is why you failed to notice him before now._

If he had been there that long then he was probably not going to yell at them; at least not in the middle of the night. Naruto exhaled slowly, then turned to Akiko and whispered, "I think I hear someone coming. We have to get back to bed. I'll carry you, and you just don't talk, okay?" She nodded obediently and he scooped her up and put on display his best acting skills as he snuck down the halls as though he did not know he was being followed. Akiko, at least, seemed to believe that he had succeeded in getting her safely back to her bedroom; he placed her in her bed and awkwardly tucked the blanket around her shoulders. Having been tucked in himself on only the rarest occasions, he had no idea what he really should have done in that regard. "Good night," he said. "Eat your breakfast tomorrow and _don't_ spoil your supper by loading up on sweets, eh?"

"I won't," Akiko promised, and he figured she did mean it . . . until the next time the temptation became too great to bear. The warm milk was obviously having an effect on her finally; her eyelids drooped as she added softly, "G'night, Niichan."

He left her room and closed her door very carefully so it would make next to no noise, and though he had intended to go to his own room after that – there was no point in getting cornered by one of his father's nocturnal prowls, or whatever it might have been – it occurred to him at his bedroom door that he had left his blanket piled on the kitchen floor. Incriminating evidence if there ever was some; it was bad enough his father would know he had been up and around, so there was no need to tell anyone else about it. He sighed to himself and meandered back to the kitchen in his own good time, collected his blanket, and headed for his bedroom again.

"I appreciate the way you handled that."

Naruto's spine straightened and he shuddered, startled. It was hardly that he had not known his father was there, but he had not expected to be addressed. He stopped and wrapped the blanket around his shoulders as he spun languidly on one heel. The hallway was empty but for him, yet from one of the darkest shadows nearby the Fourth emerged, having been invisible despite his blond hair and pale eyes. "Don't _do_ that!"

His father chuckled. "Sorry."

"You have work and stuff. Shouldn't you be in bed?"

"Good question," was the response. "You have training and stuff. _Shouldn't_ you be in bed?"

Naruto shrugged and continued up the hall. The Fourth joined him but said nothing, which was fine if a bit strange; Naruto was not entirely used to having company when he wandered at night. Finally, he asked, "So what did I do that you liked so much?"

"The way you dealt with Akiko's misbehavior and temper. It was very calm and mature."

Naruto looked at him sideways. "That's a weird thing to praise me for."

"Is it, considering your condition?"

Perhaps not, then, though Naruto did not say so. After a moment, he wondered, "What _are_ you doing up, anyway? You were outside the kitchen for a while."

"Oh," was the interested notation, "you noticed?"

"No," Naruto admitted. "But considering that you didn't jump out and scream at us when I _did_ notice you, I figured you had to have been there for a while and decided for some reason to let us be."

"I just wanted you to have time together," his father explained. "Akiko has been worried about you since you were hurt, and since you were being responsible about your little late-night party – as responsible as you can be when neither of you should be up and out of bed, anyway – I thought I'd leave you two alone as long as you didn't get too loud."

Naruto looked at him. "Dad, why are you up?"

"I can have a stroll around my own house at any time, _junior_," the Fourth replied, obviously a bit annoyed.

Naruto rolled his eyes. "If work is as stressful as you've been making it out to be, wearing holes in the floor won't do any good. Stay in bed."

"I _can't_," came the answer. "And I pray you'll never have to understand why."

He did already know about it, though; it was a mild form of post-traumatic stress, but its specific symptom had granted it the layman's designation of 'Nighthawk Syndrome'. Older shinobi – particularly war veterans – had a tendency to wake up in the middle of the night and feel a need to 'check everything', so they would wander their homes or, if that was not good enough, the entire village. In most cases it was a harmless thing; few shinobi had ever been so stressed that they somehow managed to hide how kunai-happy they were during the day and then unleashed it on unsuspecting victims at night. Still, there had been a few accidents – mostly involving early-morning delivery men, who by their very job descriptions had to take potentially suspicious objects right to the front doors of peoples' homes – and shinobi who had the symptom were required to report it.

Naruto, who also wandered the village whenever his nightmares had gotten the best of him and made him feel claustrophobic, had encountered several such shinobi throughout his life; sometimes they had just made sure he was who he looked like, other times he had ended up in a shouting match with some jerk who was trying to yank him around and order him to return to his apartment. Which, since there was no village ordinance regarding curfews, had quite frankly been a load of complete bullshit that Naruto had not been particularly shy about pointing out. That type of instance mostly stopped once he hit thirteen, however, because Kakashi was a frequent nighthawk and from time to time would join him on his silent wander – which meant that even the more aggressive shinobi would leave him the hell alone – and after he returned from training with the pervert he had been all but left to himself. In the past year he had not been questioned at all, though he would often see the nighthawks on the roofs overhead. So he was aware of, if just peripherally, the truth behind his father's apparent antsy behavior.

"Why are _you_ up?" the Fourth prompted. "You said you weren't hungry even though you were eating."

Damn. Of course he had been there to hear _that_. In that case, though, it was very possible the man had been following him since he left his bedroom. "Nightmare," Naruto explained shortly.

"You walk off your nightmares?"

"If I have to."

"Nobody said you did."

"If they're bad enough I do."

"And when they're not bad?"

"I stay in my room."

The Fourth frowned down at him. "You don't have to keep it to yourself, you know."

"I'm fine," Naruto told him, and hoped his voice was not too defensive.

That was obviously not what his father had wanted to hear but it seemed to be more like what he _expected_ to hear, so he let it go. ". . . Yamanaka-san said he saw something in your head."

Naruto snorted. "Not my head."

"Wherever. Better that way, at least; one's head is too influential to be sharing with foreign powers."

Naruto hoped the double meaning in that sentence was coincidental. Otherwise, things would probably get very ugly very quickly. "And?"

"What is it?"

He had known the inquiry would come up sooner or later. "A . . . An ally."

"And that's where those marks on your cheeks came from?"

Unconsciously, he rubbed the back of his right hand across the corresponding cheek. Since it was night and everyone had gone to bed, he had long since washed off the concealer with which he had been carefully hiding the whisker marks up to then. Covering them at his father's request was turning out to be a daily task that annoyed him, because the marks were the one thing about the kyuubi's presence that he could unequivocally say he _liked_. But he had been forced to agree that he did not want his mother alarmed or snooping for information if she ever saw them herself. "Yeah, it is."

"Naruto, just how did you come by that chakra?"

Ouch. He was certainly going right for the balls. Naruto decided the truth would work fine. "It was given to me. I'm supposed to protect with it."

"Protect what?"

"Whatever I want."

"Why was it given to you?"

"To protect, like I said."

"Yes, but why _you_?"

Naruto stopped and looked at the Fourth; the man seemed faintly worried. Of course, the literal reason for _him_ having the kyuubi's chakra was because his father had been the one to give it to him. But it was an answer that would obviously not work in his current situation. So he told another truth, and one that he figured was more along the lines of what the one beside him was actually looking for.

"I don't know."

He did not; not really. When Pain had been trying to capture Kyuubi, the Fourth had said that he had done it because he believed Naruto could successfully control and wield the fox's power for good, but Naruto still did not know what that meant, beyond the obvious. Since being told that, he had learned repeatedly that it seemed as though one person's good was someone else's evil, and no matter what he did he was going to be upsetting _someone_. With people like Danzou he was pleased to piss them off, but there were many others whom he would rather have spared the hurt, however minor.

"Dad," he said suddenly, "how do you fight against hatred when it encompasses an entire world?" He was more curious to hear any answer at all – to hear some other perspective – than he was expecting to be gifted with a revelation; after all, his father's mirror had not known the answer, nor had the old pervert who had been around for decades. When the elder blond looked at him, he added hastily, "Hypothetically-speaking, naturally."

The Fourth stopped and looked at him, baffled. "Why would you think of something like that?"

Naruto stopped as well and made a carefully-calculated roll of his eyes. "Because I'm cerebral."

His father snorted and said, "Every day."

". . . Huh?"

"Every day," the Fourth repeated, his hands tucked into the understated pockets of his overcoat, which he had probably thrown on over his undershirt and boxers because a blanket would have been too inconvenient, and the coat was likely loaded with hidden weapons for emergencies besides. "That's how you fight against any hatred at all. It's not something that goes away after one big battle; as long as human beings have any emotions at all they will hate. Even happiness creates hate because one person's happiness always seems to be resented by at least one other person, whether or not that happiness was come by honestly." He shrugged. "So there is no real way to fight hatred – not properly, at least – unless you do so every day of your life, one person at a time."

Naruto looked at the floor, baffled and a little hurt. It did not seem like that tough an answer – in hindsight it made perfect, if unfortunate, sense – so there was no reason why he should not have been informed before. "That sounds . . . hard."

". . . Naruto," his father said softly, "who told you that you had to do such a thing?"

"Nobody," Naruto replied, and elaborated with, "It's the job of each generation to make the world as nice as possible for the ones who will follow, isn't it?"

The Fourth laughed weakly, his brows drawn in a fond sort of puzzlement. "I suppose that's true. But it's still my turn right now, so get back in line and don't be in such a hurry. It's not all it's cracked up to be." Naruto's distress must have been more than visible, because his father said, "This wasn't something you just started thinking about in the past month, Naruto." He leaned in a bit and asked, "It doesn't bother you _that_ much does it? How old were you when this idea was introduced to you?"

"Sixtee—" Naruto began without thinking, then corrected himself awkwardly with, ". . . nth."

"Huh?"

"It was the sixteenth. Sometime in the last year." He decided to cover his screw-up with information. "Two people I really respect told me they didn't know the answer – that I had to figure it out on my own."

The Fourth looked at him closely. "That bothers you?"

"The answer's not that hard," Naruto explained, "and I thought they wanted to _help_ me. Why would they not tell me and make it _harder_?"

His father tilted his head. "Perhaps I overstepped my bounds."

"Eh?"

The Fourth straightened up. "There are plenty of reasons why they may not have told you, the biggest being that they wanted you to figure it out for yourself."

"But _why_?"

"Maybe it hasn't occurred to you, Naruto, but you've always had self-esteem issues. When they developed is a moot point – you have them. It's not the slightest bit unlikely that you were told to figure it out yourself because they wanted you to gain confidence from your deductions and choices. Another reason is that the answer I gave you isn't encouraging; they may have wanted you to try things your own way and see how rewarding it was _before_ you discovered that it was going to be a lifetime effort you'll probably never completely achieve. Because even if they never said _what_ you should do, it should tell you something that they told you at all and therefore entrusted the care of a dream to you; trying even once to rid the world of hatred, after all, could very easily lead to the 'if everything were to go my way' sort of power cravings."

Naruto had not thought of that, and he recalled Uchiha Madara's intentions for world domination. "Oh."

"So who are these two really respected people?" his father prompted, much to his alarm.

_D'oh,_ Sarcasm snorted.

_Oh, for . . ._ Kyuubi growled. _Your lack of forethought astounds me._

_Just because you have no physical form doesn't mean that I'm prevented from __**mentally**__ kicking you in the balls,_ Naruto snapped. He aimed the comment at both, though he wondered if doing so to the former would mean he would have to kick _himself_ instead. _**Bugger off**__._

"Naruto?"

He refocused and said quickly, because saying that the elder blond had said it might cause problems, "Uh, I think it was Ero-sennin and Sandaime-jijii."

The Fourth tilted his head. "You _think_?"

Naruto scowled. "I have _other_ people I respect too! You can't expect me to keep track of every word each one says and when!"

"All right, easy," his father chided. "Jeez, I didn't realize you were part piranha."

Naruto stared at him blankly, then understood. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and let it out slowly before opening his eyes again. "Look," he said, much more calmly, "it doesn't really matter. I shouldn't have even asked at this time of night."

"We think deepest when the world isn't distracting us," was the cryptic response; something that Naruto was not too cautious to point out.

"Whatever that means."

His father laughed and slung one arm around Naruto's shoulders, which he used to pull the smaller blond closer so he could kiss his son's head. "Get some rest, all right?"

"Okay," Naruto replied, though he did not really expect to.

He was escorted the rest of the way to his room, and during the trip the Fourth said, "I'm going to leave the issue of that other chakra to you, Naruto."

Naruto blinked, extremely surprised to be allowed what was apparently carte blanche. "Eh? Really?"

"Yes. If it was given to you then _you_ were meant to have it, no one else. But please be _very_ careful with it, and if you have any trouble – any at all – you come straight to me. I don't care if I'm in a meeting with the daimyo; you're more important. Is that clear?"

"V . . . Very," Naruto confirmed, not sure what to make of what appeared to be a sudden trust in him. He was caught quite off guard when the elder blond abruptly grabbed his lower jaw in one hand, the fingers of which dug into his cheeks a bit so that he was not hurt but could not close his mouth without pinching himself. "Oi, wha are you _thooing_?" he demanded. "That'th not comforthable, you know!"

The Fourth came up with a penlight from _somewhere_ and peered curiously into his mouth. "Have you been eating ashes or something?"

"_Wha_?" Naruto replied, blindsided, before he remembered that he had not been taking the proper care to not breathe on his father. Before he could explain, one of the elder blond's fingers was probing carefully between his tongue and teeth. Naruto tried unsuccessfully to recoil. "_Pleh_!" he cried. "Pleh, pleh, _PLEH_!"

"Hold still," was the mild, very parental-sounding reply.

The finger finally withdrew and Naruto stuck his tongue out to try to forgot the taste of it before he hissed, "What the hell was that for?" The Fourth preferred to skip answering him in favor of rubbing his saliva thoughtfully between finger and thumb. He then lifted the smeared digits to his own face, and for one horrible moment Naruto thought he was going to stick them in his _own_ mouth next. Instead, his father merely sniffed them thoughtfully, and Naruto made the mistake of admitting his thoughts. "I thought you were going to taste it."

"That would have been the next step," his father admitted without hesitation or any apparent concern. "But the texture and scent are normal, so there's no real reason to go that far."

"That's gross," Naruto informed him.

His father looked at him as he dried his fingers on the fabric of his overcoat, then snorted and said, "Gee, you're so green I could just stick you in a patch of sunlight and grow you, couldn't I?"

"You don't know where my mouth has been," Naruto argued.

"Not as many places as mine, I daresay," the Fourth countered. "The likelihood of you having some kind of germ I haven't already contracted and survived is so low as to be laughable. Besides that, seeing as you're my son it's highly unlikely your DNA will mysteriously poison mine."

"It's still gross."

"So what," his father said, dismissive of what would obviously be a circular argument, "makes your breath smell like something burning? It can't be that chakra . . ."

Naruto shrugged. "Seems that way."

"I assume it's not having an adverse affect on you?"

"Not so far."

The elder blond hesitated, but finally said, ". . . All right, well, try not to scare your mother with it."

"Because that's generally what I do with my time, I guess," Naruto grumbled to no one.

He was given what to him was a strange but still fond-ish look, then tucked into bed. His father knelt on the floor, folded one arm on the mattress, rested his chin on it, and with a smile extended his other arm to run his fingers through Naruto's hair. The purpose of the gesture escaped Naruto right up until the moment his eyes closed and he drifted completely to sleep, and that was despite Kyuubi's fractious tail-wringing and disgusted muttering about how the _Fourth_, of all the pathetic human insects, had to be the one touching _his container_.

Once certain Naruto was asleep, Arashi got quietly to his feet and went to the door. He paused just before he pulled it completely closed and took another look back at his son. His head tilted of its own accord as a slightly confused smile – one that was quite similar to the first – found its way onto his face again, then he closed the door the rest of the way and headed along the hall to continue his late-night wandering. With the hour being what it was, there was no one present to hear him speak to the still air.

"I do remember what you told me then, Red, but . . . you never said it would be anything like _this_. What am I supposed to do now?"

* * *

To be continued in . . . **Chapter 18**** – Konoha Diplomacy**

By behaving himself for the past month, he had managed to ditch his guard without even really trying. It was not that the ANBU were incompetent idiots – far from it. It was simply that when there were just two of them assigned to watch over one target who was mingling amongst hundreds or even thousands of potential threats, it was the threats they kept an eye out for because danger could come from anywhere. As the one being guarded, it was not so difficult, then, to keep track of just the two of them in turn and wander casually into a nearby alley to cover up some form of escape.

Or so Naruto had thought.

"Where are you going?" a voice asked suddenly from behind him.

* * *

**Answers To Questions You Didn't Even Know You Wanted To Ask:**

**"****You're also insisting on my complicity – on me helping you – with your bad behavior, … "**

I wonder if I'm maybe giving Naruto too big a vocabulary. I definitely don't think he's anything near to the status of a moron, but I seriously doubt he's a scholar, either. Maybe I can get away with saying these are the kinds of words he picks up as a result of his profession . . .

—

**Akiko was partial to mustard-smeared crackers, apparently …**

I'm not sure this sounds very good to me – not as good as jelly-smeared crackers, anyway – but I'm sure someone out there will/does love it.

—

**His answer was to stretch his neck and sniff with Kyuubi's nose and his own mouth. … because a scent inhaled through the mouth strengthened the overall smell …**

Your sense of taste consists of four aspects – sweet, sour, bitter, and salty – located on specific areas of your tongue. Anything beyond those is your sense of smell at work, because your nose and mouth are actually connected to one another. This is why pinching your nose often makes it easier to eat something you don't like (as long as you don't inhale at the same time) because generally it's the smell that disgusts you rather than the taste or texture, and by pinching your nose you're blocking the passage of air through your nasal cavity.

—

**… ****but its specific symptom had granted it the layman's designation of 'Nighthawk Syndrome'.**

Tee-hee, RN made a funny. First of all, nighthawks are ground-dwelling (and thus have a camouflaging feather pattern reminiscent of fallen leaves and old bark), insect-eating birds which tend toward both nocturnal and diurnal habits; shinobi – who operate both night and day, can live and sleep on the ground, and also probably occasionally have to eat insects to complete or survive an assignment – fit this designation. A 'hawk', however, is used colloquially to describe a person who is somewhat warlike, or at least believes that aggression is the best way to handle a situation; shinobi who may have aggressive tendencies, then, and wander at night could be considered 'nighthawks'. Oh, aren't I just so irrepressibly clever?

—

**Naruto snorted. "Not my head."**

Even these days, though I admit I only very rarely cruise the fandom anymore, I see fics where Kyuubi is implied as being contained in Naruto's mind. I've probably written this myself at one point or another. Admittedly, Kyuubi's prison is doubtless **accessible** through Naruto's mind; in fact, I don't see any other way for them to interact except mentally or spiritually, both of which would require a 'neutral ground' that Naruto, at least, could theoretically perceive with his eyes (and which outside forces, such as Sasuke, could visit). But to be clear, it's been noted – officially, I believe – that whenever Naruto is 'visiting' Kyuubi, he's in a sewer. In the human body, the equivalent of a sewer would be the digestive tract, specifically the intestines. Seeing as Kyuubi was sealed in/behind Naruto's navel, this makes sense and is an accurate progression from body to 'mind'.

Of course, it also makes sense and is accurate to say that Naruto's a gutter-brain.

—

It's time to play a quick game of _Draw Your Own Conclusion_! Akiko is still hungry and looking for someone else to coerce into sharing mustard crackers, but isn't likely to peek into individual rooms for fear of squeaky doors. If you review you will be in a room, therefore she will probably not find you and use her cutesy eyes on you. Draw your own conclusion.

~RN (LS)


	18. Konoha Diplomacy

**Author's Notes:** Happy birthday, Naruto! I had a one-shot I wanted to post for his birthday, but it's not coming along very well, so instead I'm posting a nine-page chapter of _VàV_ for you. I'm sure you all don't mind. At any rate, I wasn't too sure about the beginning of this chapter, but the more I read it the more I liked it. Your thoughts are appreciated.

**Word Count:** 8017 (**Total:** 107694)

**Date Submitted:** 10/10/10

* * *

**Chapter 18**** – Konoha Diplomacy**

* * *

By behaving himself for the past month, he had managed to ditch his guard without even really trying. It was not that the ANBU were incompetent idiots – far from it. It was simply that when there were just two of them assigned to watch over one target who was mingling amongst hundreds or even thousands of potential threats, it was the threats they kept an eye out for because danger could come from anywhere. As the one being guarded, it was not so difficult, then, to keep track of just the two of them in turn and wander casually into a nearby alley to cover up some form of escape.

Or so Naruto had thought.

"Where are you going?" a voice asked suddenly from behind him.

"_Waugh_!" was his exact response, because he had nearly jumped right out of his skin.

His father grabbed him by the collar of his jacket and dragged him back into the street. Despite the crowds, people found room to make way for the Hokage. "C'mon – we're going to visit a friend."

"_Whose_ friend?" Naruto grumbled as he struggled to keep his feet beneath him and not choke on the thick material bunched beneath his chin.

"My friend and your potential future ally," the elder blond answered. "Making nice with influential people is important. What's wrong with you? Keep up!"

"Quit dragging me!" Naruto protested, and thrashed violently. Not surprisingly, it did not free him. "I can't walk like this _and_ I'm about to pass out!" That seemed to be enough said; his father stopped at a big intersection and let him go. Naruto, ruffled and not happy at all, straightened himself up and scowled at the taller blond.

"Don't call your father names," the Fourth commanded, which Naruto thought was a tad alarming because he _had_ just been mentally cursing his father's lineage, regardless of the fact that it was his own as well.

"Where are we _going_?" Naruto demanded.

"You on a schedule?" his father countered.

"I'm supposed to be looking for an apartment for Shinju so she can go to school, right?"

"First of all, you don't need to sneak away from your guard for that, and second, I picked one out for her a week ago."

Naruto's mouth dropped open. "_You_ told me t—"

"Must've slipped my mind. Let's go."

Naruto crossed his arms. "No fucking way. You were setting me up."

The Fourth turned impatiently and, in a clipped voice which sounded particularly disturbing despite how aggressive Naruto knew he could actually be, demanded, "Setting you up for _what_?"

Naruto stared at him. Something was wrong. ". . . You're acting weird."

"No, I'm acting pissed off," was the correction.

That was definitely not it. Naruto had never seen someone who was pissed off fidget so restlessly; rage was either kept bottled or released in a flurry, not expended in tiny spits. It was more like his father was _anxious_ about something. "Dad," he said firmly, "what the hell is going on?"

"Can't we just _go_?" his father whined.

Jittery. Jittery was the word.

"_No_," Naruto insisted sharply. "You're freaking me out. I'm _this close_ to running home to make sure Mom and Akiko are okay."

"They're fine," his father promised absently. "I've already checked on them."

Naruto felt all the blood drain from his head, the way it did when he was on the verge of panic. "Dad, _what happened_, damn it?"

The elder blond sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "You don't have to be scared."

"I'm _not_ scared! _You're_ scared and you're rubbing it off on me like it's poison ivy!"

"_Shh_!"

Naruto stared at him again, bewildered. "'Shh' _what_?" The Fourth grabbed his shoulders hard enough that he winced, then shifted the grip – gentled, fortunately – to Naruto's face. He lowered his forehead to Naruto's crown and closed his eyes, and that was when Naruto realized the last few things his father had said had not been aimed at him. It was as though Naruto had merely been acting in the capacity of a corporeal conscience. ". . . Dad?"

"It's fine," came the response. "Everything's fine."

"Dad, tell me what happened. _Please_."

His father sighed heavily and fingertips dug painfully into the space behind his jaw and below his ear. He winced again but kept his silence, and he was rewarded with the Fourth's confession of, "Someone is trying to take my family away from me." His voice became hard and sharp as he added with muted anger, "But it's okay, Naruto. I won't ever let that happen."

Naruto decided it would definitely be better to not mention his own presence for a while longer; it could lead to trouble. Besides, he shared his father's feelings on the matter. "I won't let it happen either, Dad. I'll protect Mom and Akiko any way I have to."

There was a very long silence, after which his father whispered at a pitch he had obviously not intended for Naruto to hear, "But that's what scares me the most."

"I'll be careful," Naruto promised anyway.

". . . Ugh, when did your ears get so sensitive?" the Fourth sighed. He straightened up then, but seemed to be considerably calmer than just a few seconds before. "All right, let's go," he instructed as he headed off into the districts that encompassed the long-established families, many of which were shinobi and some of which possessed a kekkei genkai. "Hotaru and Akiko are safe indoors, but I want you to stay with me for a bit."

"Why?" Naruto asked, even though he was following obediently. "I have guards, and if the situation is like that I promise I won't try to ditch them."

"It's not just that," his father explained as they turned and passed beneath an archway that was painted with a very familiar family crest. "I really did want you to come along to have you interact with future allies. You never know when you may need them."

Naruto did his best to not gawk, but it was difficult. His memories of the Uchiha compound before the mass slaying were few and unreliable; he had been no more welcome there than anywhere else in the village. Most of his recollections of the tiny community-within-a-community were of empty, shuttered buildings and torn lanterns that told of one of Konoha's worst nights, and of an excruciating loneliness reflected silently in the eyes of a dark-haired boy who had not been even remotely prepared for that pain. It was actually more than a little bit unsettling to see the place so full of life.

"Dad, where are we going?"

"I need to speak to Fugaku."

Naruto vaguely recognized the name, but could not recall where from. "Who?"

"Mikoto's husband."

Like that was any better. "Who's Mikoto?"

His father stopped again, just as suddenly as before, and turned toward him with bewildered eyes. "You don't know Mikoto?"

Maybe it was the Fourth's tone of voice, but something about the question seemed a tad rhetorical. Naruto let his brows draw together. "No. I must have forgotten."

His father looked closely at him, his expression somewhat worried, but then said calmly, "Huh," as though it were of no consequence, and moved deeper into the compound. They eventually came upon an apparently random house that was hardly any more unique than its compatriots on all sides, and the Fourth unceremoniously slid open the front door and poked his head into the vestibule. "Hello?"

Naruto frowned at the bright red characters embroidered on the back of his father's overcoat. So much for learning how to 'interact with future allies' – even _he_ knew one did not simply invade another's home like that. "Are you ignorant or just rude?"

"It's one of the perks of being at the top of the ladder," his father replied, without making any attempt to withdraw from the house even though he was surely aware of the disapproving stares he was getting from the clan members passing by behind them. "I can be a dick and people will be nice to me anyway." He scanned the area one more time, then stage-whispered, "_Psst_! _Mikoto_!"

Fewer than twenty seconds later, a woman's voice said, "_Arashi_, what _are_ you doing?"

The Fourth stuck an arm into the building and waved it at her pleadingly, though he was careful to not step over the threshold. "I came to see you! Invite me in!"

"You can't come in without an invitation? Does that mean you're actually a vampire?"

"The psychic kind!" was the confirmation, leaving Naruto a bit thrown by his change in mood. "Now are you going to let me in or not?"

"I suppose," came the tolerant response, "as long as you leave the boys alone."

"Oh, they like it." The Fourth slid inside, then added cheerily, "Naruto's with me, too. Is that okay?"

"I wish you wouldn't teach him your manners. Come inside, Naruto-kun."

"I always make sure to tell him to do as I say rather than as I do," the elder blond proudly assured his friend as Naruto stepped next into the foyer and slid his sandals off.

"That's not comforting in the slightest. What you say isn't much better than what you do."

"Sorry to bother you, Uchiha-san," Naruto inserted by way of greeting. He looked at the woman, took in the way her hair framed her face rather nicely, and had the very distinct feeling he had seen her somewhere before, even though he had only ever seen a few examples of Uchiha features.

"Not at all, dear," Mikoto promised with a gentle smile. "Visit whenever you like."

"_What_?" the Fourth demanded, then frowned. "Oh, I see how it is – you like 'em young nowadays, eh?"

Mikoto turned an award-worthy flat stare toward him, then said, "Naruto-kun, please make yourself right at home. Arashi, you stay put until I can lay some papers down in a corner so you won't have another accident."

Naruto snorted at the absolutely deflated expression on his father's face. When the Fourth noticed his son's amusement, he said with as much dignity as he could muster, "It's not like that."

"Yeah it is," Naruto snickered.

The two blonds stepped up onto the hardwood floor and Arashi frowned almost immediately. ". . . Hey, are you pregnant?"

Mikoto froze and then turned to him, annoyed. "Could you _possibly_ have said that any louder?"

The Fourth rocked back on his heels, then offered seriously, "I can give it a try, sure."

She rolled her eyes. "Yes. Four months. A girl. No, nobody knows except Fugaku. Speaking of which, how could _you_ tell, seeing as I'm not exactly showing?"

The blond man shrugged and answered cryptically, "A ninja must always be aware of his surroundings." He looked around a moment, then demanded, "Where are my socks, Mikoto? Aren't you Uchiha generally proud of your hospitality? Can't you even properly accommodate your Hokage's eccentricities?"

She rolled her eyes once more and turned to enter the kitchen that was just to her right. "Would you like anything to drink, Naruto-kun? Water? Tea? The blood of an idiot?"

"Well, I already have too much of that last one," Naruto answered, and received a limp swat to the back of his head for his trouble. Since he did not want to inconvenience the kind woman, he added quickly, "Water's fine, Uchiha-san. Thank you."

"Would _you_ like anything, Arashi, since I suppose I have to be nice to you also?"

"I'll have you," the Fourth replied with a leer.

"Fresh out," Mikoto responded, so abruptly Naruto figured it had to have been an old joke between them. "Come in and sit, you two – my husband is with a . . . _visitor_."

The way she said the word put Naruto on instant alert, as it did his father. He entered the kitchen and sat at the table placed neatly in the center of the room, but the Fourth remained standing and stared down the hall for several minutes as though trying to intimidate the visitor in question into coming out of hiding. Naruto sipped at his water and watched his father ignore Mikoto's urges to sit, but perked up reflexively when the elder blond did. The Fourth opened his mouth to speak, presumably to the visitor or Mikoto's husband, but instead a long-fingered hand reached out and grabbed hold of his flak jacket. The voice of Uchiha Itachi preceded its owner.

"My apologies, Hokage-sama."

The Fourth let out a soft noise of surprise and protest as he was propelled into the kitchen, followed by a wide-eyed Itachi and a shifty-eyed Sasuke. "Wha—?"

"Shh!" Itachi hissed as he pushed the blond into the corner of the kitchen that was along the same wall as the doorway. "Sasuke." Sasuke grabbed Naruto and, with a total lack of ceremony that Naruto found surprisingly reassuring, hauled the blond to his feet and dragged him over to where the Fourth was standing. "Please stay there," Itachi ordered quietly, and Naruto felt his father's arms drape over his shoulders absently.

There were suddenly two voices in the hall. Naruto felt his father stiffen and the taller blond's arms drew him back from the room as though trying to protect him; he took the cue that the situation was strange – possibly dangerous – and kept his mouth shut. Sasuke went to sit where Naruto had been and pretended the blond's cup of water was his; Itachi sat opposite him, and Mikoto – in whom Naruto had finally realized, seeing both of them in the room together for the first time, he had been identifying Sasuke's features – placed a cup of green tea on the table before him. While the boys, Sasuke a bit less successfully than Itachi, pretended that nothing was amiss, Mikoto went to the doorway and bowed slightly to the visitor, conveniently blocking the view of the kitchen.

"Take care," she said demurely.

"I appreciate your hospitality, Uchiha-san," a man answered. His voice was deep and hinted at harboring chronic pain. Naruto was distracted from fully identifying it; he winced when his father's grip tightened yet again and simply figured the voice belonged to someone the Fourth did not like as opposed to being the voice of Mikoto's husband. The two voices continued down the hall toward the door and the first voice rumbled just before leaving, "I hope you'll consider what I've said, Fugaku-san."

"Of course," responded a male voice which must have belonged to Mikoto's husband.

A few moments after the front door had slid closed Mikoto bit out from her place in the kitchen doorway, in a tone that conveyed her anger, "We have another visitor."

She moved aside for her husband, who seemed slightly confused as he entered the room until he spotted the Fourth in his periphery. His surprise was obvious, but he did not appear to be particularly worried. "Hokage-sama. How convenient – I must speak with you as soon as possible, if you have time. It might be too suspicious to attempt to arrange a meeting now and too late if we put it off until a safer time."

Mikoto suddenly smiled. Itachi's eyes closed and he exhaled slowly, and Sasuke went so far as to sigh and lie over the table in relief. The family patriarch looked at them, then stepped over to the table and put a hand briefly on his elder son's head before stepping around the table to the side that Sasuke was on and giving his younger son a slightly more demonstrative pat. He sat at the table beside Sasuke and accepted a cup of green tea from his pleased wife, who looked up at Naruto and his father.

"Would you like some tea, Arashi?"

The Fourth relaxed so much that Naruto was surprised he had not felt all of it building. "Please."

Itachi rose from his place at the table. "I'll check the house for bugs. Sasuke, would you like to assist me?" Without a word but still agreeably, the younger brother hopped up and followed.

"I'll join you in a minute," Mikoto told them as she poured tea for her husband and guest. Once that was done, she looked at Naruto. "Would you like some more water, Naruto-kun? Or tea?"

"Water's fine, thank you," Naruto confirmed as his father stepped out from behind him and went to sit at the table across from Mikoto's husband. Once she had refilled his cup and left, he seated himself at the end of the table farthest from the two men and observed them discreetly; his father seemed a bit upset, but Mikoto's husband was obviously the source of Itachi's generally irritating calm. As they sat there and looked at each other, it occurred to Naruto that he might not have been a welcome presence at that moment, which was the other half of the reason why Itachi, Sasuke, and their mother had left the room. Since it was possible Mikoto might have hesitated to order him around because of his position, Naruto figured he might as well speak up. "Dad? Should I go?"

"Please," was the confirmation. "But don't leave the house."

Naruto got to his feet. It was extremely odd, how his academy training had really begun to sink in once he started taking being a ninja so seriously. Lessons he could never recall sitting through, let alone paying attention to, had crept into his mind one at a time and settled in for the long haul. Like not eavesdropping on conversations he knew he would get in _huge_ trouble for eavesdropping on. A few years ago he would have done it without a thought – just to know what was going on in the village – but right then all he could think was that he had to, in a figurative sense, get out of the way; he would be told if the matter pertained to him.

_Holy shit,_ Sarcasm gasped theatrically, _are you __**maturing**__?_

_You should listen anyway,_ Kyuubi prodded. _It may be vital._

_I trust him,_ Naruto decided.

_Not very bright,_ the fox replied, _but in that case I certainly can't say you're acting out of character._

"I have something which I need to discuss with you as well, Fugaku-san," the Fourth said after a moment, as Naruto exited the kitchen, "regarding a potential threat to the village's safety."

"All this peace and quiet," Fugaku responded dryly. "Whatever will we shinobi do with it?"

The Fourth wilted. "Oh, really?" He shook his head. "What am I saying? With a visitor like that, it couldn't possibly be good. Please, go ahead."

There was a small room positioned slightly down the hall from the kitchen, floored with crisp tatami and full of monochromatic blue cushions with tiny red and white fans embroidered in one corner or another, presumably for the formal entertainment of guests. It was empty and quiet for the time being, so Naruto sat there with his water to wait; thanks to his senjutsu training, he had found it much easier to be still for long periods of time.

Not that he generally bothered to, but it was nice to know he _could_.

"Naruto-kun?"

He looked to the doorway. Mikoto stood there, her eyes curious but respectful of his apparent decision to be alone. "It's fine," he assured her. "Dad said I shouldn't leave the house and I didn't want to go wandering around without an escort." Actually, it would have been _much_ too discomfiting to wander in his friend-brother's home at all, and his imagination was vivid enough that he felt no need to encourage any images to accompany Sasuke's rare and morbid retellings of the massacre.

"Don't worry, Naruto-kun. You're always welcome here."

That was nice to know. "Thanks." Mikoto entered the room, closed the shoji behind her, and knelt on a nearby cushion. Naruto asked, "Hey, so who was here? I didn't get a good grasp of his voice."

Mikoto seemed somewhat annoyed. "Danzou."

Danzou again. It seemed the old bastard was certainly making the rounds of influential people – first the Fourth, then each member of the Council over the past month, and then the Uchiha. Naruto's eyes narrowed briefly. The Hyuuga were likely next, if they had not already been accosted in some way; maybe, if he could get a hold of one of them in time, Hinata or Neji would be able to tell him something. "I see."

Mikoto tilted her head. "That interests you?"

"Kind of. Why?"

She shrugged delicately. "You've never been concerned with village politics before."

Naruto shrugged in turn. "Danzou's weird, that's all. Secretive. It puts burrs in my fur."

She laughed. It was a pleasant, gentle sound. "Burrs in your fur? I think you've been spending too much time in the forest."

Naruto frowned slightly. It was a phrase he had used nearly all his life; it could have been a subconscious influence of Kyuubi's, but he had never heard the fox use it. So he saw no reason why it would have meant anything to her. ". . . Huh?"

"Mom?" Sasuke called through the shoji.

"Yes, dear," Mikoto acknowledged, and Sasuke took that as permission to enter the room. "Are you done?"

"Yes." He grabbed a cushion and sat near her. "Itachi's checking the storage room."

As though summoned, Itachi appeared immediately. "All clear."

Mikoto nodded firmly as he also settled by her. "Good. I didn't expect Danzou would be so foolish, but one can never be too sure."

Sasuke looked at her, apparently worried. "Mom, Dad won't . . ."

He fell silent abruptly and glanced sideways toward Naruto, who lifted an eyebrow and offered, ". . . betray Konoha?" When three sets of eyes turned to stare at him – two with a faint sheen of red that revealed that frequently stupid Uchiha pride – he added sharply, "_No_, I don't think that. It was just the logical conclusion."

Mikoto, the only one who had not taken any offense at his suggestion, tilted her head. Though she was not angry, her gaze was piercing; certainly suspicious, but academically so rather than defensively. "How would you find that a logical conclusion?"

"It should be the first thing that comes to any shinobi's mind," Naruto replied.

Mikoto opened her mouth, but the Fourth's voice asked from the shoji, "Why? You should be able to trust your allies implicitly – especially if they are from your own village."

Naruto was gratified to know he was not the only one who jumped; even Mikoto had twitched in response to his father's sudden appearance. "You _should_ be able to, yes."

The Fourth turned his head slightly and warned, "If you keep your attention focused on people instead of the world, Naruto, then you'll be taken by surprise. When you drink from a stream your eyes must ever look ahead, not merely down at your own reflection."

"But if I'm constantly looking ahead of myself," Naruto countered calmly, "how am I supposed to see the one who will stab me in the back?"

His father gazed at him for a long moment before asking, "When have you had need to worry about that?"

Naruto shrugged even as his mind threw up images of a thirteen-year-old Sasuke standing atop a cold stone statue of Uchiha Madara. He had never resented Sasuke for leaving – though he _had_ resented the Uchiha for making Sakura cry – but the lesson had still been learned; Naruto had realized then that he had taken for granted the idea that none of his allies would ever betray him, no matter the reason. Never again. "I don't have to be worried about it to consider it – I'd be foolish to think that none of my shinobi associates can be bought."

The Fourth's brows drew together, but he said nothing other than, "On your feet. We're going. Mikoto, my thanks. Itachi, Sasuke."

He did not say what his thanks was for, but Mikoto inclined her head, closed her eyes lightly, and replied demurely, "Hokage-sama."

"Hokage-sama," Itachi and Sasuke echoed respectfully.

Naruto set his cup down, got to his feet, and bowed to Mikoto. "I appreciate your hospitality, Uchiha-san."

"Always, Naruto-kun," she assured him.

"Bye, Sasuke," he said next, and then decided it would not be fair to exclude Itachi, so he added, "Itachi."

"Naruto-sama," the brothers answered.

He joined his father, and the two headed up the central hall toward the door. Fugaku met them there, and Naruto dipped his head politely beneath the firm, but not angry, gaze; the man nodded in response before turning his eyes to the Fourth, who said softly, "Your candidness is deeply valued, Fugaku-san."

Fugaku shook his head slightly. "I can't promise the cooperation of the entire clan; as always, it seems, we are divided. Some still hold too tightly to the past and disdain the idea of assisting the Senju – whatever form they hold or name they take – and though the last of the elders who preach such outmoded concepts are dying off, their teachings will surely live on for several generations to come. You must be prepared for that eventuality; it may happen that the Uchiha clan is so at war with itself that it can neither help nor hinder your efforts."

"I realize there is strife within the clan, partly because of the actions of my predecessors," the Fourth said. "But as long as the entire clan does not turn against me, I will consider that itself a good sign. Please do not spill clan blood on my account."

"Clan blood," Fugaku noted solemnly, "may be spilled regardless."

"I won't have that foolishness in this village," the Fourth told him harshly. "It is not the source of Konoha's strength. I want the issue dealt with at least until current problems have been taken care of, so that this resentment can be properly addressed in the future."

"I'll take care of it."

The Fourth calmed somewhat. "Thank you."

He exited the house and Naruto scurried after him, puzzled and madly curious. Sasuke had mentioned once that many of the Uchiha had been angry at the Hokage – the Shodai and Nidaime in particular – for a perceived lack of fairness; of course, there was really no way to judge the validity of the claim more than fifty years after the fact, but it was what it was. It seemed, then, that the discontent had carried over between worlds, but something had kept the clan alive for years longer than back home.

The Fourth glanced up at the sun and mused primarily to himself, ". . . It's getting late . . ."

Naruto did not particularly think so; 'late' meant that, at the very least, it was dark outside. And right then it was definitely not. Still, he said, "If you're busy, I can always police myself—"

"Ha ha," was the very _not_ amused response. But then a team of ANBU touched down in front of them and the Fourth looked at him. "All right, go on. But _don't_ leave my sight."

Naruto shrugged. "Sure."

"I _mean_ it, Naruto," was the insistence, coupled with a sharp stare from those piercing ice-blue eyes. "If I have to come after you . . ."

"Okay, okay, I get it already," he confirmed dismissively, unimpressed by the hanging threat, and jammed his hands in his pockets as he strolled along a street that was slightly less crowded than it had been an hour before. He window-shopped mostly, since there was no reason to buy anything other than stuff he might have needed out in the field, and occasionally scanned the surrounding people for any friends or potential enemies. It was during one of those sweeps that Naruto spotted a familiar face amidst the throngs.

"Shino!"

It was Shino all right, and the only reason Naruto had been able to pick him out was because he looked exactly the way he always had – hidden under a coat with a tall, stiff collar, wearing those completely out-of-place sunglasses. He stopped and turned; because he was not prone to raising his voice even in a huge gathering of people, the gesture was Shino-speak for, "Yeah, what is it?" When Naruto reached him, he corrected his informality with a polite, "Good afternoon, Naruto-sama. Was there something you required?"

Naruto shrugged. "I wanted to say hi. You know, check up on everybody and make sure all's right with the crazy ninja world. I've already seen Shikamaru, Chouji, Hinata, and Kiba about a month ago, so I'm kind of on the lookout for everyone else." Shino just stared at him, as though gauging his physical, mental, and emotional statuses. A bug buzzed from somewhere nearby – probably Shino's sleeve – and landed right on the tip of Naruto's nose. He crossed his eyes to look at it and greeted brightly, "Hi!"

Something Naruto had noticed rather quickly, as he aged and his presence became more tolerated by others, was that each of his immediate peers had an individualizing quirk not unlike his boundless enthusiasm was for him. Sakura and Ino shared a violent streak, Hinata was painfully quiet, Shikamaru was positively slothful if he could get away with it, Chouji ate almost incessantly, Shino had his bugs, Kiba had his dogs, Neji had his snootiness, Sasuke had his psychological instabilities, Gaara had a tendency toward sleeplessness, Kankurou had a creepy affection for his puppets, Temari had a highly forward nature, and Lee was . . . Well, Lee was pretty self-explanatory. Tenten's biggest uniqueness came from the fact that she was probably the most normal and best-adjusted of the lot of them, although sometimes she showed she had a sadistic 'ooh, see the flesh bleed' side available when she wanted it. As a result of all that, combined with the indispensible foreknowledge that he himself – regardless of what he told others – was certainly no model exhibit of humanity, Naruto had been able to accept them each at face value; they merely were who they were – no more, no less – and that was perfectly okay with him.

In the case of the Aburame clan as a whole, the bugs took surprisingly little time to become accustomed to. That went especially for when one could see them in action; it allowed room for a great deal of appreciation. They could go places that most summons could not, and in a far less conspicuous manner. The majority of laymen could actually identify any summon creature on sight, if the circumstances were suitable, but there were so many species of insects in the world that only the larger summon-types could be picked out. Non-summon insects, even the ones which relied so heavily on chakra, were usually quite indistinguishable from their garden-variety cousins except to the eyes of an entomologist. Naruto could tell the difference, of course, as most shinobi could, and had grown used to a few of the things fluttering around Shino or anyone Shino thought was important enough to watch over. At any rate, it was hardly as though the bugs were _dirty_ – it was just that the concept and the sensation of them crawling on the skin took some getting used to.

However, the way Shino's body language told the story, that was not how things were in the new world. Naruto refocused on his friend – and Shino _was_ a friend, parallel universe or not – and let the bug crawl along the crest of his nose and up to his forehead as he sought some subtle manner of subject change. The tiny insect-claws prickled him as it advanced but hardly caused pain, and the bug's calm vertical ascent triggered a thought. "Oh, hey, I want to ask you something."

One of Shino's eyebrows went up. "You wish to consult me, Naruto-sama?"

Naruto ignored his polite incredulity. "Some insects secrete acids, right?" He already knew the answer to that particular question, but since there was apparently no logical reason for him to know, he had to play dumb.

Intrigued but obviously desperate to hide it, Shino said, "Some, yes."

"If you saw a scorch mark on a tree, could you tell what kind of acid caused it?"

Shino tilted his head ever so slightly. ". . . If it was something produced by an insect I expect so. But there are other creatures that can produce acid as well."

From his wallet, Naruto retrieved the picture he had taken of the wounded tree nearly a full month before. He had wanted to ask Yamato to heal or 'bandage' it in some fashion, but he had been unable to find the jounin and no one he had spoken to knew who he was talking about. For the sake of time, because the bugs had really begun to eat into the sapwood, Naruto had tried talking to Ino – who had kind of batted her eyes at him when she greeted him, which had been an exceedingly weird experience on the same level as Sasuke smiling instead of smirking – but she knew far more about flowers than she did trees. He had also tried the library, the caretakers of which had let him in without even the slightest sideways look, but as much as he wanted to help the tree he had been unable to deal with the inactivity for any longer than an hour and seven minutes; he had definitely counted. Finally, in a last-ditch effort he had spoken to his father – though he had not actually expected any useful information – and while the Fourth had been as helpful but ultimately as unknowledgeable as expected, it had been Naruto's _mother_ who was apparently a big fan of trees and had offered him a solution that made reasonable sense to him. So Naruto, to whom plants and trees were related scientifically as opposed to physically, had flushed the invading insects from the acid burn, tacked a thin piece of craft wood over it, and then painted the entire area around the scarring wood with citronella oil to keep the insects away.

He had been checking on the tree on a weekly basis and the band-aid seemed to be working, which he had reported to his mother at her request, but before he had covered the wound he had taken a picture of it so he could show it around to anyone who might have knowledge of acid. Upon seeing it his father had nearly confiscated the picture as evidence, but a combined argument of logic from Naruto – who had said there was no guarantee that the tree's injury had anything to do with the attack on him – and Kakashi – who had assured the elder blond the ANBU already had a less mangled picture of it, taken soon after the metal shard had been removed – had left the picture in Naruto's care. And while Naruto had scowled at Kakashi at the time, the picture really was beginning to look a little rough because he carried it _everywhere_. Fortunately, he had centered the tree's wound almost perfectly in the picture – Sasuke's anal retentiveness would have been proud – so that part had suffered only the most minimal damage and Shino patiently examined it at Naruto's silent request.

". . . I don't believe an insect was responsible for this," he reported after several minutes of scrutiny. "Not a normal insect, anyway. The spread of the spray is too wide, though it did clearly come from a single source. I don't suppose you have a close-up of the exact burn pattern . . .?"

"Sorry," Naruto replied, with a shake of his head. He had not thought of that.

"Then I fear that's as far as my experience can assist you."

Naruto nodded. "Thanks. It's more information than I'm getting from anybody else." He did love his father – really, he did – but the man was infuriating at times and for some reason had repeatedly evaded questions about the investigation of the attack. Naruto had essentially given up asking; he just occasionally posed token queries to make his own actions less suspect. It was somewhat upsetting, because he _wanted_ to trust the elder blond, but there was something just not . . . _right_ about his father, and he did not want to agitate it by pushing too hard. At least not until he had a better idea of what 'it' was.

He was just about to change the subject again, that time to simply ask what the bug user had been up to, but as he said, "Hey, so wh—" a hand clamped down on his forearm. His head snapped around to his right to see who would grab him so forcefully; he saw the cloaked person he had seen a month before, after his encounter with Kiba. Or he assumed it was the same person, though it certainly could have been someone else in an identical black cloak and hood – it was not as though he could see the stranger's face. "—at the hell . . .?"

"Your presence is required, Tenko-sama," the person said, his voice a monotone.

"My presence is already established," Naruto hissed angrily. "_Here_."

It was then that Shino's hand grabbed the stranger's wrist and his bugs – newly agitated by his expression of aggression – began to creep from beneath his coat sleeve. The cloaked head turned toward him, and Shino met the unnerving stare evenly. "Your position is disadvantageous," he warned.

The stranger's free hand locked around Shino's wrist, and both Shino and Naruto responded by taking hold of it. Two sets of coldly furious eyes – one a stark blue, the other hidden behind dark sunglasses – glowered up into an ominously black hood.

"Your presence is required, Tenko-sama," the stranger repeated.

"You can kiss my ass," Naruto informed him. "Now let my friend go."

Naruto did not know quite what happened. But the cloaked intruder flicked his wrists and suddenly the big tangle of arms and hands was undone, replaced with his hands separated but still clasped around one wrist of each of the boys. They immediately set about trying to free themselves, but the stranger's grip was tempered steel.

_I dislike this situation, boy,_ Kyuubi chimed suddenly. _Get rid of this creature._

Naruto had, of course, not missed the 'tenko' comment, but he had been too distracted with getting free to consider what it might have meant. In hindsight, however, 'tenko' was a term not too frequently used in Konoha – it generally referred to the many nine-tailed foxes present in various religious mythologies; indeed, Kyuubi himself was called a tenko by those who had never directly experienced his power. That in itself was neither a surprise nor anything that would set off an alarm. But for someone so suspicious to use the term in reference to _Naruto_ – or even to Kyuubi through Naruto – was an unpleasant sign. An unpleasant sign of _what_, Naruto did not know, but seeing as no one in that universe should have known Kyuubi was with him, it was definitely unpleasant.

It was then that two very adult hands clamped down on the stranger's wrists. Naruto and Shino both looked up sharply to find the Fourth standing over them, shoulders lifted stiffly and head lowered, blue-white eyes staring unblinkingly into the deep black hood. In a deathly calm voice, the kind that hinted clearly at a particularly violent viciousness to come, he ordered, "Remove your hands from my children. Immediately."

"Release me at once," was the stranger's even response.

Even Naruto, for all his rebelliousness, knew that one absolutely did _not_ disobey a Kage who had given an order in that tone using that body language. He cringed at the killing intent that instantly swept through the area and saw Shino kind of huddle away from the situation in silent alarm. Most of the surrounding civilians picked up on the aggression, no matter how unconsciously, and vacated the streets; a few young children started crying before they were shushed and hurried indoors. Shinobi in the vicinity began to come out of the metaphorical woodwork in response to their leader's fury, though they took care to stay at a distance for the time being. Naruto slowly closed his eyes against his father's silent anger and tried to simply focus on breathing; though he had faced a number of dangerous enemies in the past, he had never felt anything like the virulence that was rolling from the elder blond in near-tangible waves. It was stifling and Shino was beginning to tremble, but Naruto did not dare speak to him until the faceoff had ended in one way or another, lest it unintentionally spark violence.

Two more cloaked figures appeared on either side of the first, but the Fourth did nothing so much as blink. He had probably already known that they were nearby, and further, Leaf shinobi had continued appearing since the civilians' retreat; the cloaked strangers were ludicrously outnumbered. Or at least they appeared to be, if the scene were taken as it appeared. What bothered Naruto was how _calm_ the cloaked people were; the idea that they might be arrested for essentially assaulting children did not seem to concern them.

"We are clerics seeking the great tenko, and we do so in accordance with the international law," the first stranger announced. "Release me."

That revelation in itself explained a great deal. All of the daimyo had, during one of their annual meetings decades ago, given those who devoted themselves entirely to a religion a form of diplomatic immunity. They had never explained why – just provided information as to how far the immunity extended – and as united as they had been on the decision, so had shinobi in all nations been united in their opposition to it. It just left too much room for all sorts of unhappy potential for infiltration and sabotage. Yet even the five Kage did not have the political clout to overturn the choice, so the immunity had remained in place, and fortunately nothing bad had come of it.

Not until that moment, anyway.

"Regardless of what you may seek, your political protection does _not_ extend to what is clearly an attempt to abduct village children," the Fourth hissed. "As such, _you_ will release _them_ and then you will all be escorted from Konoha _post haste_. You are _not_ to return to this village _ever_ again, a law effective _immediately_."

Naruto had, honestly, expected the stranger to say, "Or what?" at which point he had intended to kick the bastard in the crotch and spark a huge fight, which would not have ended well – seeing as they were in the middle of the shopping district – but it would have been terribly worth the collateral damage to see the creepy cloaked people removed quickly and efficiently from Konoha's general vicinity. Instead, the three cloaked strangers seemed to have second thoughts about challenging his father, who was generating killing intent at the same level he had been for the past ten minutes of the standoff; they must have decided he meant what he said, because the first one finally let go of Naruto and Shino and, as the Fourth let go of him in turn, backed away.

"This will be remembered," one of the others asserted as a full two-thirds of the ninja present closed in to be the strangers' 'escort'.

"Good," the Fourth answered shortly, his eyes and voice frigid, "because you are no longer welcome here."

The severe killing intent faded to something that was more along the lines of a simple irritated intent as the supposed clerics were walked out of sight. Naruto, easily able to shuck off that level of anger, turned to where Shino was standing on his father's other side and smiled breezily. "How 'bout it, Shino? You gonna live?"

Shino turned to him slowly, giving the impression that even behind his sunglasses his eyes were wide. ". . . I'm fine," was the faint confirmation.

"My apologies, Shino-kun," the Fourth inserted, his ire vanishing entirely as his attention was redirected. "I hope I didn't startle you too much."

Shino looked up at him, then said diplomatically, "If for some reason I had ever had questions or doubts regarding why you were chosen to be Yondaime, Hokage-sama, they were certainly put to rest today."

"Hokage-sama," an ANBU with a boar mask interjected quietly from behind them, "the village will need to be thoroughly swept."

The Fourth exhaled, though Naruto could not tell whether it was a gesture of impatience or something else, and replied, "Fine. Is Dog on duty?"

"Yes."

"He can escort us, then. Organize a complete search in cooperation with the MP – Uchiha Fugaku has been made aware of this situation. I want all the civilians' homes checked as well; make an announcement so the Hyuuga won't see anything unnecessary. Anything deemed suspicious is to be examined by a team containing no fewer than four men, and one of them must be familiar with seals."

"Sir."

Boar left, and the Fourth smiled at Shino. "Let me see your arm. Any injuries?"

Shino hesitated, but did finally lift his right arm and slide his sleeve back. "None."

The Fourth checked it anyway. Satisfied there was indeed no damage, he patted Shino's arm absently and said, "You should get home before the search starts."

Shino nodded and bowed. "Hokage-sama. Naruto-sama."

Naruto watched him go, but was not unaware when the Fourth turned to him. "Come on, Naruto. We have to get home too; it's possible we are more subject to the laws than anyone else in the village."

That was not it – not completely – and Naruto knew it. A full sweep of Konoha, carried out in a reasonable amount of time, meant that the dozen or so ANBU normally assigned to watch over the Hokage, his family, and his home would be cut down to three or four. Effectively safeguarding all of those, then, required them to be in a single location. Not that the concept alarm Naruto; despite the potential threat, it was relatively standard protocol. Except for perhaps other ninja, everyone logically assumed that a danger to anyone in the Hokage's family would be met by a _heightened_ guard. And while Naruto was not intending to blindly lump those 'clerics' into that category, it was not a wholly unsafe bet to make. If the 'clerics' were half as cautious as they seemed to have been the past month, they would back off and take a week or so to regroup.

"Can you really prevent them from coming into the village?"

Naruto looked around his father; a dog-masked ANBU, Kakashi, had taken Shino's place. Kakashi had not been around much since Naruto had first seen him, but considering the amount of energy he displayed when Naruto knew for a fact that he was being sent all over on important errands – because ANBU were never wasted on menial tasks – he must have been sleeping every minute he had to himself. Akiko, who had not seen him at all during that time, was beginning to miss him terribly and frequently toddled about the manor, peering into rooms and peeping at people, _"'Kashi-niisan? 'Kashi-niisan? 'Kashi-niisan?"_ She would be delighted to see him, and that was probably a big part of the reason why the Fourth had asked for him specifically.

The Fourth turned casually and headed in the direction of the manor. He gave what appeared to be the most careless glance back at Naruto – though from the past few hours' behavior Naruto was positive that the gesture was anything _but_ careless – and began to head for home. To Kakashi's query, he answered, "Physically? No, I can't. All they would have to do is not wear those cloaks and we'd never know it was them; if they have half a brain, I expect they'll do that. Politically, I can definitely file an injunction against them. The daimyo – at least of Fire Country, if not the others – will find out about it one way or another and question it, but there were civilians who witnessed the events leading up to the confrontation. I doubt the daimyo will like it, but I'll have good reason and that injunction _will_ stand. Otherwise, he or they will be condoning the theft of children for a host of potential reasons, and not even the civilians would tolerate that."

* * *

To be continued in . . . **Chapter 19**** – Mother's Voice**

There was something about the voice, unfamiliar though it was, that tugged at his chest. Peripherally he felt only a vague, painful sadness – something he initially brushed off as a result of the slightly melancholy sound of the melody – so he was surprised to feel tears sliding down his cheeks. And it was not the mere two or three that had occasionally escaped his guard, but a veritable waterfall of sorrow that he could not put a stop to. It was as though someone else was using his eyes to cry. A voice that sounded like his own, just younger and almost heartbreakingly childish, whimpered, _"Mama . . . Mama . . . That's our mama . . ."_ At first he thought _he_ was saying it because his mouth had been forming the words, but they were echoing in his head rather than his ears – the voice had been loud and clear enough that it had _seemed_ like something audible.

"_Mama . . . That's our mama,"_ the voice sobbed. _"I miss you, Mama . . . Why did you have to . . .?"_

* * *

**Answers To Questions You Didn't Even Know You Wanted To Ask:**

**" …** **Does that mean you're actually a vampire?" "The psychic kind!"**

In vampire lore, psychic vampires don't drink blood. Instead, they feed on the emotions of their victims; the emotion they feed on depends on their preference, but in all cases the victim feels drained. Standard blood-drinking vampires are supposed to be unable to enter your home if you don't invite them in first, and I went ahead and carried that over even though psychic vampires are said to be capable of feeding regardless of the distance between them and their victims.

—

**"****It's not like that." "Yeah it is,"**

I intentionally left this open-ended, so that you could interpret it in multiple ways for your own personal amusement. For those of you who may want direction in that regard, you can say that the Fourth was protesting the idea that he's either easily pushed around by women – which is what I originally meant that exchange to mean – or that he has (or had) a heretofore unknown bladder-control issue. Or you could invent something else you might prefer to imagine.

—

**"****Yes. Four months. A girl. …"**

For those of you knowledgeable about pregnancy, or those who may simply be curious, I shall explain this. Visually, by which I mean with ultrasound, a baby's gender can usually be identified around twenty weeks – five months. However, by the end of the first trimester – nine to twelve weeks – testosterone is being produced in males. Further, part of the chorion – the outer of the two sacs that encase a baby – can be sampled without causing the baby distress; this is significant because this sample will have the same DNA as the baby, and from the DNA you could then discern the baby's gender if you wanted.

I will also mention here, though I expect I will be explaining in detail later in the fic, that in various circumstances ninja will make a primary guess of an 'invisible' person's gender based on the strength of certain elements in that person's chakra. It's not an infallible method, of course, but it has a reliable success rate. That's why I decided to use four months instead of five.

—

**Mikoto entered the room, closed the shoji behind her, and knelt on a nearby cushion.**

I think we all know this already, but _shoji_ are the sliding doors that are covered with rice paper and frequently have a pattern painted on them. You'll probably never see them in modern buildings, but temples, traditional inns, and some private residences have them.

—

**" … ****It puts burrs in my fur."**

This is a modification of the colloquialism 'a burr under my saddle', which I believe is most commonly identified with the cowboys of the American West. As one might deduce, a burr is something that causes discomfort, and when stuck under a saddle it could only cause a greater discomfort. Horses that may have literally suffered in this situation would tend to be ornery and otherwise not prone to obeying commands, which they couldn't be blamed for, quite honestly. In dogs and cats, then, burrs of varying sizes can tangle in medium to long coats, twist fur and skin, and cause pinching and scratching and general distracting irritation.

—

**" … ****When you drink from a stream your eyes must ever look ahead … " "But if I'm constantly looking ahead of myself, … how am I supposed to see the one who will stab me in the back?"**

In a world history class I attended in high school, we studied the various Greek city-states. Specifically, we were studying Sparta, and as a demonstration of a supposed form of military training my class was instructed to pretend we were drinking from a stream. The teacher then told us that those of us who had looked up, toward him, would have been viewed in a better light than those of us who had not, because the ones who had looked up would have been more aware of their surroundings. This is true, I concede, but I still wish that Naruto's response was one I had come up with at the time rather than years after the fact; I would have been interested to hear the teacher's answer. Although considering the Spartan belief system, the concept of betrayal probably would not have been accepted.

—

**" …** **the idea of assisting the Senju … "**

I'm not sure anyone doesn't know this by now, but 'Senju' is the surname of both the First and Second Hokage and, by extension, Tsunade. There is considerably more significance attached to it, naturally, for those who have kept up with the manga, but I will refrain from addressing that before or unless it's absolutely necessary.

—

**…** **then painted the entire area … with citronella oil to keep the insects away.**

Citronella oil is obtained from the leaves and stems of several species of plant. It's used often as a perfume in soaps and things, and since the late 1940s has been registered in America as an insect – though it's most famous for being a mosquito – repellent; it's considered a non-toxic bio-pesticide. Also, apparently, if you happen to have any body or head lice then citronella oil has proven effective in repelling them as well. Citronella oil usually has no effect on people, but a few may develop a skin irritation and dermatitis, and it's not recommended for children under three years of age.

—

**… ****Kyuubi himself was called a tenko …**

Where a _kyuubi_ is simply something that has nine tails, a _tenko_ is a specific term for a nine-tailed fox. _Tenko_ can be either benevolent or belligerent.

—

I come to you this chapter with bemused thoughts. I received a curious review about a month ago, presented here for you, word for word: "_this story's pointeless :S just saying you should be writing your own story, not wasting time on fanfcis..since youve got the talent and everything just saying p:_"

What makes this flattering but still somewhat backhanded compliment so curious is that I actually **am** writing my own story – really, **stories** – at the same time I'm writing _VàV_, and I'm relatively certain I've mentioned this before. However, I admit right now that there is **no possible way** I could have improved my writing to a point where it would be of publishable quality **without** writing fics first; some people are able to do that, but I was not – feedback from readers helped me refine my skills in a way I doubt I could have done alone. And sure, once I felt my skills were appropriate I **could** have just vanished into the ether, but I didn't and don't want to do that. Writing fanfiction is fun, and it gives me a break from having to think up everything for myself. I also consider myself to be in a position of constant growth, so writing fics gives me an opportunity to keep improving. So if any of you were also wondering about this, there's your answer.

—

It's time to play a quick game of _Draw Your Own Conclusion_! The security sweep is at hand, and martial law may be imposed if threats are perceived – especially outdoors. If you review, you will probably be indoors somewhere and thus less likely to be considered a threat. Draw your own conclusion.

~RN (LS)


	19. Mother's Voice

**Author's Notes:** What was that 'whoosh'? Oh, right, it was the sound of a **whole fucking year** passing by like a Concorde running with the throttle wide open. What the hell **happened** to me? Was I abducted by aliens or something? Blehhhhh . . . Anyway, I missed you guys! I feel like an ass, and you all should congratulate yourselves for that; no one nagged me in reviews or PMs—more, some of you were actually **worried** about me—so the amount of guilt I'm feeling is astronomical. I've caught up on the reviews that I've missed and I would've loved to answer them all before I posted, but I decided I should probably only answer those with specific questions; I figure that instead of going to the trouble of answering **everything**, you'd rather I just apologize and let you read.

I'm really, **really** sorry. Hugs and love.

**Word Count:** 5915 (**Total:** 113609)

**Date Submitted:** 10/10/11

* * *

**Chapter 19**** – Mother's Voice**

* * *

"'Kashi-_niiiiiiii_san!" Akiko shrilled the instant she caught sight of Kakashi. He had removed his dog mask since they had gotten indoors, so she was able to see immediately that it was him; not that Naruto would have been particularly surprised if she had recognized him even if he had been wearing it. It was better—safer—if she could not, though, since masks were meant to hide identities and toddlers were not known for their sense of discretion.

Kakashi smiled, clapped his hands once, and chirped, "_Hello_, my little love!"

"That's weird," Naruto muttered as he followed his father into the lounge. Though Kakashi had not been around much in the past month, he had still been able to get a good idea of the relationship between the jounin and Akiko, and it was very . . . unusual. Not _creepy_, really, because he was absolutely certain nothing improper was going on, but still strange. The Fourth did not appear to be concerned by it, and indeed, Obito appeared to be equally as smitten with her as Kakashi; neither of them had a sister aside from Rin, who seemed fondly abusive like Sakura and therefore more of an elder sister than anything, so Akiko's adorable sweetness was apparently wrapping them both quite neatly around her little finger.

"Oh, you don't have to be jealous," Kakashi crooned as he focused all his attention on a happily-squealing Akiko. "I can cuddle with you too, if you'll wait."

Naruto made a face. "No thanks."

"Everything all right?" his mother quietly asked his father.

She was sitting at one end of a couch in the lounge, so the Fourth sat next to her and rested his arm along the couch's crest, just behind her shoulders. He watched Kakashi and Akiko for a moment, and Naruto thought he might try to avoid her question, but what he said in a similarly quiet voice was, "I want someone to help Hitomi watch Akiko. Especially in public. Someone young but with some kind of martial training, who can slip past a spy's watch and at least buy time for the ANBU to set something up."

"What about Naruto?"

Though Naruto was pretending he was watching Kakashi and Akiko, his ears were tuned to his parents. He did not know if his father could tell he was listening, but in either case the elder blond replied, "That's why I want Akiko's watch increased. I don't want Naruto to feel compelled to take risks to protect her; he doesn't have enough experience to put himself in that position in an even halfway acceptable manner."

If she had any protests or accusations, his mother did not offer them. She simply nodded and said, "Hitomi and I will start looking tomorrow. Anything else?"

"No."

"Are you _sure_?"

The Fourth smiled charmingly at her. "Would I lie to you?"

She shot him a very not-amused look. "Would you _not_ lie to me, if given the opportunity?"

"I lie to you far less often than you might believe," he sniffed.

She frowned at him for a long moment, then sighed and said as she got to her feet, "Well, anyway, I have something I need to tell you."

Obviously curious, the Fourth got up and followed her out of the room without question. Naruto cursed lightly to himself but then dismissed his parents' caution; they were right to be wary of who might hear, since he had been listening to their discussion to begin with. It was hypocritical and counterintuitive to be annoyed with them when he would want them to be so cautious under other circumstances.

"Naruto-niichan!" Akiko fussed. "Come play with me!"

"Sure, princess," he replied, fending off a brief spike of irritation at being ordered around.

Akiko was _much_ more interested in Kakashi, however, and in typical child fashion she insisted on having all the attention but did not portion it back equally. In short order Naruto found himself as left out as he had always been, but he dismissed the momentary sting of pain it caused; Akiko was ignoring him not because she hated him but because she, like most children, was simply a naturally selfish entity—it was nothing more complicated than an outmoded survival tactic. Further, he had referred to her as a princess and probably a lot of other people did as well, and she technically was one anyway, being the daughter of a kage; she was privileged and a tad spoiled just as he was sure his other self had been. As long as she did not tantrum, patience was due—or at least not unfair to expect.

So rather than get upset, Naruto's focus drifted. He primarily studied the features of the lounge, noting that it was not devoid of the unnecessary, untethered accouterments that were found commonly in civilian homes, and that was somewhat strange even though there were civilians living in the house. It was said—truthfully, too—that a disguised ninja would always give himself away by not having enough loose items in his house. The general logic was that any freestanding vases, decorative models, or displayed pictures could get in the way or be used as weapons during an indoor battle, so shinobi of both genders naturally avoided possessing or showing off too many of them at a given time and influenced any civilian housemates to do the same. Of course, ninja could and did collect things that interested them, but it was still why all of Naruto's houseplants could fit on one end table in front of a window in his kitchen.

That was why it was so odd to see a large number of glass sculptures in the room. Some were so big they had to be displayed from the floor, some were small enough to sit on the coffee table or up on an end table under a lamp, and others were so tiny they were clumped together in display cases in the two outside corners. All of them were solid that he could see and many of them had patches of color: some transparent, some frosted. In hindsight he was able to recall seeing other similar sculptures—usually small to tiny ones—in his bedroom, the dining room, and even the kitchen and the bathroom he shared with his sister. He figured they must have been arranged throughout the house and wondered why. Perhaps his mother liked them.

His gaze continued to meander, until it zeroed in on a splash of red on Kakashi's deltoid. It was a symbol both common and not, seen on the arm of many a shinobi during moments of sociopolitical strain but rarely at other times—the mark of the ANBU. Of course, if Kakashi was officially ANBU and not just an occasionally-summoned specialist then he was required to have it, so seeing it was hardly a surprise. Naruto idly traced the tattoo several times with his fingertip, until Kakashi finally looked over at him and said, "You're being creepy."

Naruto wondered if _his_ Kakashi had been in ANBU and wished he had paid better attention the few times the jounin had his arm exposed. Simply _asking_ was not really possible because of how his Kakashi deliberately redirected or lied about every personal topic brought up by others. Still, it would actually make a lot of sense if it were true, because the shinobi who went into ANBU always came out a tad . . . off. Which was saying something, considering that veteran ninja of any rank were usually three degrees shy of outright lunacy. He assumed it was the special training they did, but admitted that it might just have been a self-preserving reaction to everything they went through on a daily basis while part of that elite branch. "Hey—"

"Supper's almost ready," the Fourth said as he appeared and leaned in the doorway.

Naruto turned to him instead, a question on his tongue. "Hey, Dad, were you in ANBU?"

Kakashi sucked in a breath so quietly that Naruto would not have heard it had it not been for Kyuubi's ears.

His father, however, merely snorted. "Pfft. No."

"Why not?"

"That's where all the crazies are."

"Oi," Kakashi interjected with mock seriousness.

"_Exactly_," the Fourth replied.

"Don't lump me in with Obito."

"Notice," was the pointed response, "that I was smart enough to not get myself tangled up in a group like that to begin with. The fact that _you_ did speaks, I think, volumes about your mental processes. Assuming you have any." Naruto got to his feet, which redirected the Fourth's attention. "Why do you ask, Naruto?"

He shrugged. "Just wondering." He padded to the doorway, which his father was inconsiderately blocking. Still, particularly when taking his fearsome reputation into account, the Fourth had a surprisingly small frame, which quite neatly explained for Naruto why _he_ had stayed so short for so long; he had been nearly fifteen before he had begun to do anything resembling significant growing, and some of it had been sudden and awkward enough that it had briefly interfered with his training and his wardrobe—it had been upsetting to wake up one morning and learn the definition of 'wedgie-wear.' It had caused Jiraiya to grumble impatiently about having _another_ student who did not have the decency to develop properly, which Naruto had not understood at the time and therefore duly ignored. He looked up at his father, who was staring back at him with a twinge of curiosity. "Pardon."

The Fourth did not budge. "Where are you going? I said supper's almost ready."

"I have to take a p—" Naruto clipped his mouth shut as he remembered the tiny ears nearby and corrected himself with, "—leak." Vaguely annoyed that his actions in a theoretically secure location were being questioned, he added with exaggerated courtesy, "Would you like to join me?"

His father scrutinized him for a moment. "That depends. Do you think you'll need help?"

Naruto was quite taken aback by a statement that was an arguably explicit one, until it occurred to him that he was being strung along. At that point he rolled his eyes. No matter what the man said about growing up around women, he had obviously spent far too much time around his _teacher_. He had no shame, and as a result gave far less of a damn than the average sea cucumber. If he came across as a pervert to others, he apparently could not find the time or interest to care. Well, Naruto could play that game; he had spent time with the same teacher. "Possibly."

He was given another deep, assessing look, and then his father nodded sharply. "I'll call Shinju for you."

Years of experience helped with strategy, that was certain. Naruto conceded defeat in battle to have a better chance at winning what was seemingly going to turn into a subtle, protracted war. "No," he sighed, "I think I can handle it if I lean against the wall or something. Could you move?"

The Fourth looked at himself, then the doorjamb opposite him, then at his son. "There's room."

"You're doing this on purpose," Naruto accused. There _was_ room, sure . . . if he turned sideways and sidled out. But there was no need for it; if his father would just straighten up for a minute there would be plenty of space to walk past him.

"That doesn't make me any less right."

They had a long stare down. Naruto realized finally that to be challenged and stonewalled like he was there had to be some specific behavior that was expected of him, but he could not imagine what it was at first. Another few minutes passed, at which time the answer came. "I already said 'please.'"

"No," his father corrected, "you said 'pardon,' like I was being deliberately difficult. I decided that I might as well lower myself to your expectations."

Naruto withheld something that was attempting to be either an explosive sigh or an irritated snarl. He did not agree, but he had been told more than once that his manners were terrible; it was a possible error on both their parts. So, calmly and with a little bow, he said, "Please take one step to your left so that I might pass comfortably—I _really_ have to pee."

His father straightened obediently, but as he passed the elder blond stuck his arm out. "Wait." Naruto let that loud sigh loose, but it was met with an apologetic smile. "Sorry, but I'd like to know something really quick."

"What?" Naruto looked up at him, but too slowly; his father grabbed him and flipped him a hundred-eighty degrees. He was being supported well enough, but it was still uncomfortable. "_Dad_!"

"Stick," he was instructed. So Naruto, seeing no harm in it, looked down—up, rather—and straightened out his legs to hang from the top of the doorway. The Fourth let him go slowly, just in case he fell, then stepped back entirely and smiled proudly. "Very nice. Sandaime-sama didn't teach you that."

Crap.

_Your sire is more sly than I recall,_ Kyuubi noted thoughtfully, perhaps even with a touch of admiration. _I still hate him and will kill him at the first opportunity, but I will make it swift._

Which was quite a compliment, coming from the crotchety, sadistic old fox.

Naruto was getting used to diverting everyone from his inconsistencies, so he simply said, "I saw a genin team practicing it a while ago, asked about it, then practiced on my own. May I go to the bathroom now, _please_?" he prompted impatiently. "It's getting a little urgent."

"Yes, I'm sorry." The Fourth extended his arms to assist but Naruto swung himself backward, pushed away from the doorway, and brought his feet up to land in a crouch.

Which he did, at first, and was about to reel in his momentum when his mother cried, "_NARUTO_!"

He turned toward her, startled, overbalanced, and rammed more or less neck-first into the opposite wall. He rebounded and staggered, one hand over the pulled muscles and connective tissue. His father's arm caught him and helped stabilize him, and then the elder blond's free hand pushed his away and brushed a bit of healing chakra over the sore area.

"Hotaru, please be more careful."

"_Me_?" she demanded. "_Naruto_—"

"—was fine until you shouted. It's something ninja learn," the Fourth replied. A bit sternly, he added, "And I was right there anyway. He wasn't in any danger even if he hadn't known what he was doing."

"All right, _look_," Naruto said loudly, to get their attention. "If you want to argue, fine, but I'm out of here."

Hotaru seemed surprised as he rushed by her and around the corner. "But—"

"Leave him," his father explained. "He has to go to the bathroom and I've been holding him up for the past few minutes."

The bathroom break did not take long, and Naruto took a slightly more roundabout path to get to the dining room to make sure he was properly learning his way around the manor. He came across an open doorway and heard someone shuffling about inside, and though he doubted it was anything to be concerned about—the shuffling was pretty noisy—he acted with caution anyway. He peeked inside and found one of the older and more outgoing girls, Takara, doing some cleaning in what appeared to be a storage room; various types and sizes of boxes and trunks were stacked against the walls, but what caught his attention were the three huge old chests sitting near the boxes on the north wall. One was open, and there was a rag hanging over a corner of the lid.

"What's in those?" he asked.

Takara let out a shriek as she whirled to face him, then dropped her broom and clapped her hands over her chest. "Oh, Naruto-sama, you _mustn't_ do that to me, _please_!"

"Sorry."

She sighed and looked at the chests. "There're baby things in one and clothes you've outgrown in another; Arashi-sama has said they'll all be donated eventually, but I suppose he means to wait until there's some certainty he and Hotaru-sama won't have more children." She nodded across the room at the open one. "That one has photo albums and pictures in it. The girls and I were trying to find some that Shinju could take along when she leaves." She brightened. "Oh, Naruto-sama, you should look at them too. Maybe if you look at the pictures of your childhood you'll remember something."

More than that, pictures would perhaps help him integrate better. He realized, belatedly, that he had seen few pictures around the house; art pieces, yes, but not _pictures_. That was not entirely surprising, as displaying such things was almost screaming to have those people noticed and killed by an enemy, but it had not made things easy at all. He went over to the chest and knelt down, then leaned inside. There were no loose pictures, just albums, tins, and some envelopes. "Uh . . ."

Takara knelt beside him and leaned in as well. "Okay, so . . ." She fished around for a while, then pulled up a fake leather, burgundy-colored album. "Here's one of your mother, and . . . this one is of Arashi-sama, so your mother's in it as well . . . and this one is of Akiko-sama . . . Ah! Here's one of you! I think you have two, but what you have there is plenty for now. This room is filthy, so I'll be back in here for another few days—I'll keep an eye out for it, okay?"

"Okay, thanks." As Takara shifted some tins, Naruto heard a hollow clatter. "What was that?"

"I don't know." Takara peeked after the thing, then reached in and pulled up an audio cassette. She looked at it, puzzled, then turned it over. "Huh . . . Oh . . . 'You Were There'?"

Something fluttered in Naruto's chest, desperate and eager. It was a feeling he had come to both dislike and distrust; his most common experience with the sensation had begun during his childhood, at the times when he had thought people were being nice to him only to have them turn on him later.

Takara tilted her head at the hard plastic case. "Oh, that's right!" She giggled and set the tape on top of the albums. "Arashi-sama only sings in the morning now, but he used to sing a lot more. Do you remember that?"

Naruto shook his head. "He told me a little about it . . ."

"Well, your mother was very . . . supportive."

He knew what that meant. "She made fun of him."

"Sometimes," Takara conceded. "But mostly she quite liked it—I think that's mainly why she _did_ make fun of it, so he wouldn't be able to tease her first." She smiled and added, "Arashi-sama got back at her by frequently referring to her as a groupie. Anyway, once she caught _you_ singing a song Arashi-sama had been practicing the night before. She wouldn't stop laughing about how you had Arashi-sama's voice, but she had a poem she'd written that she'd thought would make a good song, so she took you to a friend who had a friend with a sound studio. She had you sing the song first, and that's on the first side, and then she sang it herself on the other side. She didn't sing very well—singing was too girly, she said—but her friend coached her to keep her voice in the lower ranges, so she just sounds untrained rather than flat-out bad. You should listen to that."

Naruto frowned. "But why's it in here?"

Takara sighed softly. "Arashi-sama put it away. He said he didn't want to lose it, but . . ." She shook her head. "Personally, I think he just couldn't stand to listen to it."

That made no sense at all. Surely the Fourth did not have such perfect pitch that a slightly out-of-tune voice would be that much of an irritation, especially considering that it was family and he had so far seemed like he was very indulgent in that regard. "Why not?"

Takara got to her feet. "I think you should look at the pictures first, Naruto-sama. Try to remember. It may be better that way."

Naruto opened his mouth, but another of the girls—Shizuka—stopped by the doorway and said in a near whisper, "Supper is prepared."

Takara nodded. "Thank you. We'll be right there." She clasped Naruto's shoulders and propelled him from the room gently. "Go put those in your room before you come to eat."

He obeyed, confused, and cleaned up before reporting to the table. The meal progressed with no trouble at all, which was why it was so shocking when _it_ happened.

About halfway through supper Hotaru said, more as an aside than with any tone of command, "Naruto, I'd like you to go to bed a little early today. I want your help with something tomorrow, after your lessons."

It was completely unreasonable, the fury that surged up from his gut so suddenly, and something just . . . let go. It was not a snap—he had snapped before, so he knew what that was like—but more like something he had been holding on a leash had yanked itself free of his hand and taken off running. If it had been a dog, it doubtless would have dashed right over to his mother and bitten her. Whatever it was, it took control of his emotions long enough that he snarled, "_Shut up_! You can't tell me what to do—you're not my mother!"

He clipped his mouth closed promptly, more than a bit dismayed by his lack of self-control, but the damage was done. He knew others thought he did not have any to begin with and they probably had reason to believe it, but it was still a common misconception; otherwise, he would have long since let Kyuubi rain fire and death on Konoha. But, apparently, he may have displayed better self-control in whatever universe he was inhabiting because everyone at the table, even Akiko, was staring at him with wide eyes. Hotaru seemed particularly startled by the verbal attack, but there was a flicker of resignation behind it. It was his father, however, who made his heart tremble. Sheet-white, the Fourth looked as though he wanted to rage or cry or both—or something worse. In any case, that was definitely not an expression one wanted to see a kage wear, and certainly not an expression one wanted to be the cause of.

"S . . . Sorry," he said, mainly to his mother but also to the entire table. The feeling was already gone but it had definitely left a horrid aftertaste.

The Fourth got slowly to his feet, his pale blue eyes lifelessly cold. "Would you like to be excused?"

Naruto considered that, as his continued presence might cause some awkwardness, but when he looked at his supper he discovered that there was no other choice available. He had lost his appetite. Something was wrong with him. ". . . I think that's a good idea, yes. Please."

"Then you are excused," was the cool response. "To your room. _Now_."

Naruto quietly left his seat and stepped around the table, hyper aware of the way his father was watching him closely, but on a lark he paused next to Hotaru's chair and met her eyes humbly. "I'm sorry, Mom. I don't know . . . why . . ."

She smiled a bit. "Well, I won't pretend it didn't hurt, but I forgive you." She reached out, in a way that translated in Naruto's mind as being daring rather than casual, and ruffled his hair gently before she leaned in and kissed his head. "If I don't see you again today, good night."

"Good night," he murmured. "I'll see you tomorrow." He was privately relieved to notice that his father's silent aggression was fading. Apologizing must have been exactly the right thing to do. He crept past anyway, aware of the cold gaze on his back, and hurried to his room; the watched feeling did not go away until he had closed the bedroom door. "That was . . . weird . . . I wonder what that was . . ."

_You're allowing yourself to be influenced,_ Kyuubi replied. _Get control of yourself._

"Influenced by what?" Naruto asked, but the fox did not respond. With a grumble, Naruto went to his bed. He considered the photo albums and cassette tape, then decided to listen to the tape. It would be hilarious to hear to his counterpart make an ass of himself, and—bonus—he would get to hear his mother sing. Hotaru did not seem to be the type who liked to sing much, especially when directly prompted to do so, so it would be a treat.

There was a dusty old cassette player on the cluttered work desk in the far corner, proof of his counterpart's privileged upbringing; most didn't have much personal technology, and the dust gave a visual explanation—people just generally had things to do besides sit around and watch television or listen to cassettes. Other than ninja-related buildings, which used the stuff for surveillance, inns and onsen were the only places such things were common as they were a subtle invitation to relax. Equally dusty headphones rested nearby, and since Naruto was unsure how far his punishment was supposed to extend—he had heard horror stories from his peers about how their parents had verbally taken away various privileges existing in their bedrooms, and then somehow known when they disobeyed on top of it—he wiped the worst of the dust off before setting things up so he could hear the tape secretly. He settled in the desk chair and pressed 'play.'

Almost immediately there was background noise—a woman talking to two men. The men were being very technical about something that had to do with what had to have been recording technology, and the woman sounded quite lost whenever she responded. Finally, she said, _"Never mind. I give up. This is your realm of expertise, so you just do whatever you think is best. I'll wrangle my baby Flash."_ There was a metallic click and her voice seemed to have developed an echo when she said, _"How're you doing in there, Naru-chan?"_

"'_M fine, Mama,"_ was the muffled response, presumably coming from inside a sound booth. Naruto barely recognized his own kiddy voice, it had been so long since he had heard it—and when he had used it he had never really paid it much attention to begin with. He sounded super young, definitely no more than six or seven years old and possibly no more than five. _"This room is really small."_

"_Don't you worry about that, baby. If anything happens, Mama'll be in there to save you even faster than Daddy would be. Now, I'm going to count to three and then I'm going to point at you. When I do that, start singing what I wrote on that paper. Don't touch it or anything, just read and sing the way we practiced. Okay?"_

"_Okay!"_ was the happy, trusting chirp.

"_One . . . Two . . . Three . . ."_

The song began, coming in far clearer and stronger than the voices had been a moment before—the final edit of the song—and Naruto listened to his counterpart sing the first verse. Although it was clear he had never had any formal lessons, he really did not sound too bad for a kid, if he could be considered an unbiased audience. He let his focus drift, though, as he frowned.

The woman's voice . . . had not sounded like his mother's. Although she could certainly get mad and loud easily enough, Hotaru's voice was usually soft and refined in a way that hinted at an elevated social status—she was the daughter of a merchant or artisan or had some other well-to-do heritage; it meant she was well-educated, and her voice gave that away. The woman on the tape, though, was far from that. That woman did not sound uneducated, but she did sound unrefined. Informal. Her voice was also naturally loud, apparently, and so she sounded as though she was much more confident than Hotaru. Also, she had apparently given Naruto two nicknames in the space of a few breaths, whereas Hotaru had never used anything but his full given name; though he had not been able to spend a lot of time with her yet Naruto was pretty sure that if she had wanted to use a nickname with him she would have just done it, if only in private. Instead, it seemed that Hotaru's refined nature had won out, since nicknames were very informal, and Naruto did not think she would change her mind if she had felt strongly enough to give him multiple nicknames during his childhood.

He had to wonder who the other woman was.

The song ended the way it had begun—with some odd random, overlapping noises that at times sounded like chimes or something both artificial and animal—and when the sounds had faded completely the tape switched back to the voices. The adults were all clapping warmly. There was a metallic click like the first.

"_Very good, Naru-chan!"_ the woman called. _"That was perfect!"_

The young voice giggled. _"Now it's your turn, Mama!"_

The clapping stopped abruptly, there was some silence, and then two masculine snickers.

The woman laughed nervously. _"Uh, no, baby, Mama's not singing today."_

"_Why not? We practiced!"_ The little boy was _very_ upset.

"_You better do something,"_ one of the men warned.

"_He's wibbling!"_ the other agreed with false urgency.

"_Okay!"_ the woman blurted, obviously before she could really think about it. _"Okay, it's my turn!"_

"_Wibble gone,"_ the second male voice chuckled. There was a third metallic click. _"He played you."_

The woman sighed explosively. _"Usually, I'm glad he looks like Arashi. But I swear, sometimes I wish he didn't; if he looked more like me it would be a lot easier to say no."_

"_Don't worry,"_ the first male voice assured her. _"If it'll help, we just won't record you singing."_

"_It'll be our secret,"_ the second male voice promised.

"_You better not!"_ was the violent growl.

"_Cross our hearts,"_ the first male voice vowed piously. _"Just make sure you be serious and put some effort into it; do what I told you to before. The kid's not dumb—he'll notice if you try to half-ass it."_

"_**Fine**__."_ There was some shuffling, and then the door to the sound booth clicked open. The woman's voice was light when she spoke next. _"All right, Naru-chan! Take those headphones off and let me have them, and you go wait outside with Mama's friends, okay?"_

"_Okay!"_

The door to the sound booth closed, and the second male hissed, _"Quick! Turn the tape over!"_

"_What? But there's plenty of time left on this side!"_

"_Idiot! That's the point! You know she'll want to listen before we do the final edit onto her cassette to make sure we didn't record her! If we put her on the other side, maybe she won't check there!"_

"_Oh, right!"_

Silence followed, and though Naruto did not expect to hear anything else, he listened to the rest of the tape. It was empty, of course, so when the machine stopped he opened the deck, pulled the tape out, and turned it around. As he was sliding it back into the tray, he was surprised to note that it was a thirty-minute tape; most tapes where he had come from were ninety-minute tapes—the thirty-minute ones were very old and either out of production or quite hard to find. He supposed that dated the thing well enough, though, since thirty-minute tapes had been at their most popular when he had been in single digits. "Huh . . ." He again pressed 'play.'

"_Okay, Musuko-sama, we're going to tell you a secret!"_

"_Yeah! This tape is for Hokage-sama, right? Your daddy?"_

"_Yep! Mama said I can't say anything to Daddy until she gives it to him!"_

"_Then you can keep our secret too, can't you? To make your daddy extra happy?"_

"_Of course I can!"_

"_Great! We're really counting on you, Musuko-sama!"_

"_Now listen! Your mama's gone in there to sing, but she was __**really**__ shy and didn't want us to record her like we did with you. But we think your daddy would like to hear your mama sing. Isn't that right?"_

"_He would!"_

"_Okay then! What we're going to do is record your mama singing the same way we recorded you singing. But the difference is we're going to put her song on the __**other**__ side of the tape, okay? So you'll be on the 'A' side and she'll be on the 'B' side."_

"_And what we need you to do for us, Musuko-sama, is not tell your mama what we did, all right? It has to be our secret, because she may not give your daddy the tape if she finds out that we did this, and we don't want that. Instead, we want you to wait until your mama gives your daddy the tape, then tell __**him**__ that your mama's song is on the 'B' side. Do you understand?"_

"_I understand!"_

Someone knocked on glass then, and in response there was a brief scramble and the sound of chairs rolling across a hard floor. _"Sorry! He's listening now! Start whenever you like!"_

The same song from the first side began again, only the boy's voice was replaced with the woman's. It still did not sound anything like Hotaru, and Naruto found that puzzling. Even so, there was something about the voice, unfamiliar though it was, that tugged at his chest. Peripherally he felt only a vague, painful sadness—something he initially brushed off as a result of the slightly melancholy sound of the melody—so he was surprised to feel tears suddenly slide down his face. And it was not the mere two or three that had occasionally escaped his guard, but a veritable waterfall of sorrow that he could not put a stop to. It was as though someone else was using his eyes to cry. A voice that sounded not unlike the young boy's, something heartbreakingly childish, whimpered, _Mama . . . Mama . . . That's Mama . . ._ At first he thought _he_ was saying it because his mouth had been forming them, but the words were echoing in his head rather than in his ears—they had merely been loud and clear enough that they had _seemed_ like something audible.

_Mama . . . That's Mama,_ the voice sobbed. _I miss you, Mama . . . Why did you have to . . .?_

Silence followed the odd partial question but Naruto listened to the tape all night long anyway, headphones over his ears to funnel every nuance of that rich, rough, confident voice into his head and uncaring of the tears that continued to run over his cheeks. He had not intended to fall asleep there at the desk because he had wanted to look at the albums before he went to bed, but the voice—untrained though it was—was simply much too soothing for him to resist. It touched something deep in him, something visceral and apparently unrelated to the boy's voice, and his eyes closed without him giving permission or even noticing. When he finally drifted off, exhausted by the rush of foreign emotions, he dreamed of gentle grey-violet eyes surrounded by deep red hair.

* * *

To be continued in . . . **Chapter 20**** – Moving Home**

Naruto let them busy each other so he could think—unnoticed and undisturbed—puzzled more than usual for some reason by the inconsistency of his mother apparently being happy to allow him to be a ninja but unwilling to let Akiko do the same. It could not _just_ have been because he was a boy and she was a girl—that was stupid; he knew plenty of women who were top-notch, sure-kill, surviving kunoichi who he did not want to irritate even one on one. He also felt a strange swell of irritation and jealousy, apparently directed at his sister, although the exact reason escaped him. She was doing nothing except demanding their father's focus, which he saw no particular harm in considering how young she was. But the feeling was there. He dismissed it, unease squirming in his belly. Sure, she had her annoying moments, but she was still his sister; she had a right to some of their father's attention.

_He likes her better,_ the little-boy voice from the previous night whispered. _He almost never pays me any attention anymore. He'd rather have a family he can be proud of. I'm just the leftovers of a mistake._

* * *

**Answers To Questions You Didn't Even Know You Wanted To Ask:**

I wanted to make this chapter longer as an apology, but there was so _much_ of it that I decided to chop it in half to have room for everything; this chapter is about the length of most of the previous ones, so you're not exactly getting shafted, but I just wanted you to know that I did make the attempt. Instead, take heart that this means that chapter twenty is partially complete **and** chapter twenty-one is mostly complete, so there absolutely **will not** be another stupid year's wait for them.

Also, for the information of the curious, I was watching a documentary on parallel universes and finally figured out how my parallel universe theory fits into current quantum mechanics. Someone mentioned that it sounded like the String Theory, which is close but not **quite** what I had in mind; what I was thinking of, when taken at face value, is more along the lines of Hugh Everett's many-worlds interpretation (MWI). As I haven't studied quantum mechanics in the slightest, I can't further clarify or even postulate, but to a layman like me, that's where the greatest similarity lies.

—

**Still, particularly when taking his fearsome reputation into account, the Fourth had a surprisingly small frame,**

This is actually true. To create realistic characters, one needs to have some understanding of height-to-weight ratios and how they affect a person's appearance; as a result, I have a couple of charts for calculating frame size. In the case of the Fourth, we know from the databooks that he's 179.2 centimeters tall and weighs 66.1 kilograms, which translates to roughly 70.5 inches (5 feet, 10½ inches) and 145.7 pounds. In my charts, a man of that height who weighs between 144 pounds and 154 pounds is considered to have a small frame. Which seems odd but makes sense enough; smaller people and animals are usually faster and more nimble, while larger people and animals tend to be slower and more ponderous, so Minato (or Arashi, in this case) being particularly fast even without the Hiraishin is neither surprising nor out of place. Ha ha! You learned something!

For reference, in the sense of height-to-weight ratios, a man of Minato's height should have a target weight of 160 pounds (72.7 kilograms); a weight of 141 pounds (64 kilograms) is considered low. Still, he has a body mass index of 21, which is above-average (although seeing as he's a ninja, that's not unexpected). And no, I don't normally go **that** much into detail, but I thought it would be fun to share.

—

**"Huh . . . Oh . . . 'You Were There'?"**

The poem/song in question is actually real. I don't normally like to be so obvious about it, but it's a really nice song and I was listening to it once and starting seeing how the lyrics could be connected to _VàV_. The song, entitled "You Were There," is from the PS2 game _Ico_ (which I've heard was pretty good but never had the fortune to be able to play). It can be found here—ht tp:/ ww tube. com/watch?v=_x1sEH2ZHbA—or here—ht tp:/ ww tube. com/watch?v=XWVij6r4QBw —for those who are interested (remember to remove the spaces). In both cases, the lyrics are in the description; they probably won't mean much right now, but I'd like to think they'd make sense by the end of _VàV_, or at least that it would make sense if I explained it. I may post the lyrics and my "translation" in the forum when _VàV_ is done—if I put them up now I'm afraid they'dgive everything away.

—

**Surely the Fourth did not have such perfect pitch that a slightly out-of-tune voice would be that much of an irritation,**

Perfect—or absolute—pitch is when a person has his/her ears and mind so well tuned that s/he can listen to a sound or chord and immediately identify the pitch(es) and note(s), as well as reproduce it exactly without external assistance. This differs from relative pitch, which is a more common ability where a person can identify and harmonize with intervals and chords rather than individual notes as well as improvise in real time ("play by ear"). At a glance, perfect pitch is rarer and so may seem to be the more amazing of the two, but perfect pitch has been compared to knowing the letters of the alphabet while relative pitch was like knowing whole words; letters alone don't make a language, and words need letters to exist—you need both to fully appreciate a language.

With training, any person can have perfect pitch, relative pitch, or both; one cannot replace the other, but the skill sets do overlap. Ninja seem to have some done some of that training, as noted during the Tenchi Bridge incident when Yamato was attempting to mimic Hiruko!Sasori's voice while Sakura listened to identify the correct tone.

—

_**"****He's wibbling!"**_** the other agreed with false urgency.**

I assume you all already know what a wibble is—it seems to be a pretty anime-specific term and not normally heard elsewhere. But in case you don't, a wibble is essentially the exaggerated precursor to crying. Giveaway indications of wibbling include any combination of drawn brows, big watery eyes, a pouted lower lip, or a trembling chin (the last in particular).

—

**It touched something deep in him, something visceral and apparently unrelated to the boy's voice,**

By the end of the fifth month of development, a fetus can recognize its mother's voice (and if the father is around often and speaks enough, the fetus will also be able to recognize his voice around the same time). I'm exercising a bit of creative license here, but yes, the idea is that Naruto "remembers" canon!Kushina's voice. At worst we can blame it on the kyuubi like I do so many other things.

—

**…** **he dreamed of gentle grey-violet eyes surrounded by deep red hair.**

In the manga, Kushina's eyes are indicated to be a violet shade, while the anime makes them grey. In situations like that I usually combine them as I've done here, so in _VàV_ and all my other fics she'll always be described as having "grey-violet" eyes. This is mainly because I don't have a preference and I don't want to be told I'm wrong because I picked a color somebody doesn't like for some reason.

—

In a couple of reviews people specifically asked about Arashi and Naruto being a bit off. Arashi I'd like you to wait a little longer on—I've really been hard on him so far and I will continue to be for a few more chapters, I think, but as the story progresses I'm expecting to explain why he seems unnecessarily emotional for the time being, and I'm planning to give him time to be badass (or at least not quite as emotional) later. In the case of Naruto, some of what you've said is exactly right—although he **is** training, in hindsight he's not mentioning it or fussing about his weakness nearly as much as he arguably should be, nor is he apparently pushing himself to exhaustion as he's been known to; his family is in danger and he's okay with just poking along? **Blasphemy**! Chapter twenty-one is going to mention how much he's done, but the point stands (his **thoughts** are the main problem); I'm intending to go back and do a (second) copyedit, so I may as well introduce a couple of statements about it into the story while I'm doing that—thank you for pointing it out. There were also a few mentions of Naruto not spending much time with Hotaru, but I promise that also will change in coming chapters. Kakashi, too, for that matter.

Lastly, the next two chapters are almost complete, and though I'd like to post them right off I think I'm going to hold out a bit. I've gone back over _VàV_ recently and it needs a little copyediting done (mainly correcting spelling, grammar, and omitted words that I somehow missed the last five times I read and proofread . . .), so I'll work on those and then post chapter twenty when I'm done, that way I'll have a few buffer chapters so I can keep writing and posting later. I've already done one copyedit up to chapter eight, I think, so those should only need to be skimmed (I'm afraid I'm anal retentive enough that I can't not do it just because I already checked once). This is **not** a major overhaul, so you won't have to reread everything unless you want to. Also, for your information, I'd like to share that I think I'm getting close to a point where _VàV_'s storyline will rejoin _DNT_'s and become more familiar, and I believe that should make updates easier and more regular—although there will still be points of deviation, of course (I have fifty-some pages of non-_DNT_ **stuff** that's eventually going to go into _VàV_, most of which I've written during my Year of Absence, just so you know I haven't been slacking entirely on this).

—

It's time to play a quick game of _Draw Your Own Conclusion_! Uh-oh, Naru-chan's wibbling again. If you review, his mother will not feel the urge to rip her hair—or your throat—out. Draw your own conclusion.

~RN (LS)


	20. Moving Home

**Author's Notes:** Somewhat filler-ish at first glance, but there are some deceptively important bits tucked into it. In other news, a new poll has arrived! Details at the end of the chapter.

**Word Count:** 6905 (**Total:** 120514)

**Date Submitted:** 11/10/11

* * *

**Chapter 20**** – Moving Home**

* * *

The manor was shaped vaguely like a rectangular wheel, or perhaps a rectangular sun, with the four sides being the original building; they became the main halls, with the later additions sticking out from them like spokes or rays. That left the center area open, meaning that each main hallway had at least one doorway through which one could access the garden. It was a small place, but there was a koi pond with a gurgling waterfall, winding sand and stone paths, lush grass, colorful flowers, and a handful of dwarf fruit trees as well as one ancient maple. Naruto had not spent much time there but he could see why his father did—according to Akane—so it was the first place he looked when he could not find the elder blond indoors. And, indeed, when he peeked through one of the windows that overlooked the garden he saw his father lying on his stomach in the grass beneath one of the dwarf trees, tabi-clad feet kicking idly in the air, with Akiko in front of him and entertaining him with some childish fancy.

Naruto knew he had not opened the door loudly enough to be heard, so he reached out with his chakra and brushed it casually against the chakra of whoever and whatever was out there. Small, nervous prey animals—birds, squirrels, rabbits, and the like—would run from the slightest such contact unless they were _very_ used to it, which they generally were around the hidden villages, and all animals would at least look up regardless of experience, so Naruto was not too surprised when a few songbirds flitted into the air cautiously and then settled back down. He was not at all surprised when the Fourth apparently failed to notice him, although there was a return brush of chakra to assure him that he was definitely seeing live people and not a genjutsu, and that he was welcome to stay. What _did_ surprise him, a lot, was how at his little silent greeting Akiko cried, "Naruto-niichan!" and whipped around nearly a hundred-eighty degrees where she sat to look up at him.

Immediately, the Fourth smiled and clapped his hands in delight, drawing Akiko's attention back to him. "Look at _you_, my little sensor-type!" he chirped cheerfully, and reached out to tap the end of her nose proudly so she giggled at him. "Oh, your mother is going to be _so_ upset with me for this, and I haven't even done anything except contribute to your chromosomes!"

Naruto, who had never really been allowed around _little_ kids even during the occasional D-rank babysitting assignments—between parents nervous about 'the fox' and a Sakura determined to prove to Sasuke her capabilities as a potential wife, there had not been much room for it—settled just to the side of his father and sister. "Isn't she a little young to have skill like that?"

"Not really," his father replied, thoughtful. "It's unusual, to be sure, but not beyond the realm of possibility. Uchiha Itachi could sense like that practically from the womb; Mikoto said she didn't have to do anything but look at him to know if someone was at the door. He didn't seem to be able to identify individual people or their intentions at the time, just recognize that someone was there . . . By the time he was two, though, he could."

Naruto snorted and muttered, "I bet I wasn't like that."

"Sure you were," the Fourth promised. "You weren't adept in the way Itachi was, I'll admit, but you were clever in your own way; you knew all the hand seals perfectly by the time _you_ were two years old. Your mother said that she showed them to you once when you were about sixteen months old, and then you started practicing all on your own—practically every time we looked at you we saw you working at it. And it must have been hard, because children that young aren't exactly the most dexterous examples of humanity. Still, it was just a few days before your mother or I could ask for a specific seal and within a few seconds you could reproduce it accurately enough to be identifiable." He grinned. "I'm sure you can imagine how thrilled we were; we showed off to friends _all_ the time. It was very cute."

He shrugged. "Anyway, you shouldn't worry—types are made as much as they're born. Once out of the academy, being limited to a single type isn't advisable unless you intend to work in a group for the rest of your life. Having said all that, though," he admitted, "sensor-types _do_ tend to be born more than made. Sensing techniques consume a lot of chakra because they're so particular and require superior chakra control, and average shinobi can get away with the basic sensing abilities learned as genin."

Naruto tilted his head and frowned. He recalled Kakashi making a comment on one occasion as to how Tsunade's training had changed Sakura from a genjutsu-type into something better balanced, what with the medical techniques and taijutsu she had also been schooled in; he did not know how much genjutsu Sakura knew, but he did know she did not use it often, which he supposed tied in with not being limited to a single type. Natural sensor-types were well looked on for their rarity, however, and like iryounin were generally _encouraged_ to specialize heavily because of the usefulness of the techniques; there was a good reason sensor-types were referred to as watchdogs, and that was doubtless why his father was so pleased with the discovery.

For some reason, realizing that annoyed Naruto terribly; it was something _else_ for Akiko to be coddled for.

That all passed with the next thought. His focus returned to what his father had said about his infancy and his 'skill' with hand seals. ". . . Mom did . . .?" He thought of Hotaru, who seemed to want nothing to do with ninja and merely tolerated them because she lived in the same village. It was not that strange that she might actually know the hand seals despite her lack of interest, because many civilians who lived in or close to the hidden villages picked them up as children, but that she would willingly teach him when he was so small—and be happy that he seemed to have talent with them—was curious.

"Yes, but your poor little sister isn't getting her early education, so anything she does on her own is quite remarkable," his father crooned at Akiko, who did not appear the slightest bit concerned about what he was saying. Instead, she went back to doing what she had been doing before Naruto stepped out to join them, whatever it was, and the Fourth redirected his attention obediently.

Naruto let them busy each other so he could think, unnoticed and undisturbed, puzzled more than usual for some reason by the inconsistency of his mother apparently being happy to allow him to be a ninja but unwilling to let Akiko do the same. It could not _just_ have been because he was a boy and she was a girl—that was really stupid; he knew plenty of women who were top-notch, sure-kill, surviving kunoichi who he did not want to irritate even one on one, and lots of others who were just plain good ninja.

He also felt a strange swell of irritation and jealousy, apparently directed at his sister, although the exact reason escaped him. He remembered the inexplicable affection he had felt for her when he first met her, a feeling that he realized was not of his own making, and wondered what the difference was between the two instances. She was doing nothing except demanding their father's focus, which he saw no particular harm in considering how young she was. But the feeling was there nevertheless. He dismissed it, unease squirming in his belly. Sure, she had her annoying moments, but she was still his sister; she had a right to some of their father's attention, and though it was out of the realm of his experience he was pretty sure he had no right to resent her for that.

_He likes her better,_ the little-boy voice from the previous night whispered. _He almost never pays me any attention anymore. He'd rather have a family he can be proud of. I'm just the leftovers of a mistake._

Except that Naruto felt his father was paying him plenty of attention.

_If you think so,_ was the sharp, angry response,_ then why don't you ask him about Mama?_

Naruto did not have to. She was inside—just fine. He had spoken to her fewer than ten minutes ago.

The voice was furious. _That is __**NOT**__ Mama!_

The kyuubi shifted and snarled—faintly, as though the fox was standing off at a distance, _That's enough out of you, boy. Now you'll __**shut up and go away**__—I'm more than tired of your pathetic whining, and that should say something considering how you only began to deliberately intrude on us last night._

There was some silence before Naruto demanded, _Oh, so you can hear __**that**__ but not the critical bastard I've had to live with most of our joint life?_

'_That' is not some figment of your oversensitive psychology,_ the fox snapped impatiently.

_Then what the hell is it?_

_Smarter than you, to have figured out I could be used as a bridge, although not too much smarter, seeing as I'm not a messenger and will not tolerate being treated like one._

Naruto realized what was being implied. _. . . That's . . . the me who's __**supposed**__ to be here?_

_**Obviously**__,_ was the harsh response. As an afterthought, the kyuubi added, _Idiot._

_He's in my body?_ Naruto could just imagine all the horrible things a twelve-year-old numbskull could do while stuck in the well-honed body of a seventeen-year-old chuunin.

_Apparently,_ the fox replied idly.

_When were you going to tell me this?_

The kyuubi snorted. _Knowing wouldn't have helped your situation, would it?_

There were times when Naruto wished he had the Akimichi partial-expansion technique; it would be easier to strangle giant kitsune that way. _He could have been helping me seem less suspicious, dumbass!_

_Why? So that when you didn't have him as a crutch you could flub up even worse and make them certain of your being a spy, or whatever they think? Under the circumstances, the consistency of your inconsistencies protects you; them believing you have memory issues as a result of a head injury is the best defense you could possibly have. It makes them—especially your overanxious sire—hesitate to disbelieve you even when they can't fully explain your changes in attitude and knowledge._

_He still __**knows**__ shit! Maybe my investigation wouldn't be so damn stagnant if—_

_Fool, he's just as much an idiot as you are, since you're the same person. More so, even, because he's your inexperienced junior and a sheltered kit on top of it. He knows less of this situation than you do; there's very little he could tell you that your procedural memory—which I remind you I've already examined multiple times—couldn't. He's also biased and emotional, as you've already learned, and therefore unreliable as a source of information. You need __**facts**__, not __**whimpering**__._

_Whimpering . . .?_ Things clicked together. _**He's**__ been the one making me feel weird!_

_As I said, he's inexperienced and sheltered,_ the kyuubi noted. _Over time you learned to control yourself in most circumstances, but he has never been faced with such things, and your developed neutrality allows his feelings to take precedence over yours and influence your behaviors. In both universes his emotions currently reign._

Naruto was naturally competitive, and really a touch prideful; he was not at all amused to learn he had been usurped by some whiny, bratty version of himself. He growled internally. _I can stop it, right?_

_Between the two of you, you are indeed the dominant personality,_ the fox answered. _He is weak-willed—a blustering puppy hoping to bluff himself a safe territory—and you are a adult who knows himself and is capable of rolling and pinning the upstart with a swat of your paw. Of course, I'm more dominant still, so if you'd like—_

_**No thanks**__,_ Naruto said firmly. _I can handle it._

_The offer is open,_ was the far-too-friendly assurance.

They may have reached something of an accord, but it was based strictly in Naruto's survival and nothing he was blindly comfortable with; he was well aware the kitsune would exploit any crevice it found and cling like a barnacle to the weakness. Naruto had known for years that he had to gain some kind of control over the fox and its power, but he had never been able to figure out how he would do that. So for the time being there was no regaining the ground lost to the kyuubi's advance, and every front had to be guarded vigilantly. _Thanks anyway._

No reason to be rude, of course; after all, they had to coexist peacefully to stay sane. If either of them could still claim to be such.

Naruto had no idea how to go about becoming the 'dominant personality,' but he figured that at the very least he would have to be more careful to 'correct' whatever unusual feelings he experienced. The way he snapped at his mother the previous night, for example, was something he would have to pick up on and put down quickly in the future. Probably, to be safe and consistent, he would have to even put down positive feelings like the affection he had felt for Akiko upon meeting her. That had not been him, he knew, because at the time she had been a stranger. It was, obviously, perfectly fine for him to still feel emotion—may, in fact, end up a very important part of staying in control, if neutrality meant being overrun—but he had to be careful to know what was _his_ and what was _not his_. Fortunately, fending off the kyuubi was good practice for such a thing, so he did not expect to have much trouble once he found a strategy.

_But Mama!_ the distant little-boy voice bleated. _You're going to forget Mama?_

Naruto pushed the anxiety and frustration away. Being in control did not mean forgetting; he would worry about all that 'Mama' business when he got around to it. But for the time being he _had_ a mother, no matter what the twelve-year-old thought of her, and he would content himself with that. He was happy with her as his mother, even though he had not spent much time with her yet, so he saw no reason to look for trouble from that angle.

Each thing in its own time . . . He had to worry about staying alive first . . .

It took Naruto a moment to realize that his eyes were closed and his head had drooped. Startled, he lifted his head and blinked hazily at the sky. He felt . . . not exactly _sleepy_ as much as _lethargic_. Unmotivated. He liked to sleep, though, so that was how it was attempting to manifest, and he suspected that if he had just returned from a mission or something he would have clicked off long ago. He yawned widely and scooted across the grass to tuck himself into his father's side; he folded his arms under his head and let it rest on them.

"Ah . . ." he heard the Fourth say, and felt the elder blond shift slightly to see him. "Uh-oh."

"Niichan sleepy?" Akiko asked.

"No, sweetie. Daddy doused your brother's fire, that's all."

That caught Naruto's attention, for he recalled nothing of the sort. He lifted his head. "What do you mean?"

"Our elemental affinities clash," his father answer, amused. "We both have Wind for our primary, so they just cancel each other out. But my secondary is Water and yours is Fire."

Naruto frowned vaguely and lowered his head again. "Shouldn't my Wind support my Fire?"

"It doesn't work like that outside the application of technique," was the response. "It's just what overcomes what on the wheel of the First Five; that's how they were discovered to begin with. Besides that, Water and Earth are aligned with the feminine—elements that nurture and soothe, and in tranquil situations they can slow and quiet the masculine Fire and Wind—which disrupt and invigorate—like _that_. Water and Earth are considered 'heavy,' so in the right circumstances they tend to drag down the lighter Fire and Wind."

"Lightning?" Naruto prompted, eyes closed.

"Seeing as it's considered a heavenly element, it has no gender or 'weight' and is the balance of the five."

"Huh . . ." Naruto had not known that—probably been too impatient to learn—but it helped explain his high levels of energy and activity where his stamina alone could not be held accountable. "Nev'r happn'd 'fore."

"Everyone involved has to be in a certain frame of mind for it to work—internal and contemplative, with a low-energy or neutral emotion at center stage. Lets the elements do their own thing. I apologize for drowning you; since I'm already content I'm afraid there's nothing I can do about it besides find a reason to get horribly angry or depressed, and I'd really rather not have to get into that."

"Wh'ever," Naruto muttered as he snuggled down into his arms. He could imagine no better place to be 'drowned' than in the company of possibly the most powerful ninja Konoha had ever produced. Nothing would dare touch him while he was there, regardless of the weakness he chose to display. There was some quiet and then the Fourth shifted beside him again, and Naruto felt something settle over him. It really did little to cover him except his waist and legs, while it disappeared off his back and apparently vanished under his father's arm. It had to have been part of the overcoat.

"Niichan sleepy?" Akiko prompted again.

"No," his father answered patiently, "not yet. He's just . . . lounging."

Good word. That was pretty much what Naruto felt like he was doing. It was nice.

Akiko accepted that and moved on. "Daddy, what's elelment?"

The Fourth chuckled. "An _element_ is . . . a part of the world. The water you drink is an element, just like the earth you walk on and the fire you cook food with. Each person is born with at least one element strong in their chakra, and some ninja can control them."

Akiko hummed as she thought about it. "I have one?"

"Everyone has at least two," was the response, "but the only one we can learn about right away is what we call the _primary_ element—the one we're born with. The other won't be clear until you're about your brother's age, once your individuality has really settled into place and you've worked with your chakra a little. Mommy doesn't want you to be a ninja, so we may never find out what it is."

Akiko may not have understood all of what he had said, but she did understand at least one thing. "Want to be ninja!" she cried. "Like Daddy and Niichan and 'Kashi-niichan and 'Bito-niichan and—"

"You'll have to take that up with Mommy," the Fourth said diplomatically. "But here, I think I have . . ." He rooted around in some part of his clothing or the gear pouches Naruto had noticed the bulges of earlier—odd that he was wearing them in the village at all, let alone the house—and then murmured, "Ah ha . . . Here! Now, have you ever been sitting still and kind of felt something moving inside you? Especially in your chest or tummy?"

". . . Cha-kra?"

"Yes, that's right—that's your chakra. What I want you to do is hold this paper just the way I'm holding it and try to push some of that moving stuff into your hand, okay? It doesn't have to be a lot—this paper is very smart and will notice any amount of chakra you give it. Go!"

Naruto frowned into his arm. "Dad, she's two. Without basic chakra training that's too compli—"

Something dripped onto the grass.

Naruto lifted his head and looked, and sure enough, what had once been a single square of plain, _dry_ paper in his sister's right hand was soaked through. ". . . I stand—or lie, I guess—corrected."

"Huh . . ." the Fourth mused as Akiko giggled. "Hotaru and I both have Wind as a primary, so I thought for sure . . . I mean, of course it isn't _always_ inherited from a primary or at all, but that's . . ." Akiko suddenly reached out and snatched away a second piece of the special paper with her left hand. "Ah, hey! Wait a minute, those aren't for play— . . . ing . . .?"

Akiko shrieked with laughter as the paper in her left hand turned a brownish color and disintegrated.

Naruto felt his jaw drop, his mind jumping to the obvious conclusion. "That's not . . . _Dad_ . . ."

The Fourth tilted his head. "Odd."

"Does that mean she can do Wood stuff?" Naruto hissed.

"Not necessarily." His father offered him the last two pieces of paper he was holding. "Here, you try. One in each hand."

Naruto obeyed. He was not at all surprised when the paper in his right hand split in half, but he nearly cried out in alarm when the paper in his left hand caught fire. He dropped it, startled, and watched it consume itself as it fell to the grass. "What the f—"

"In most cases, primary affinities are linked to the dominant hand," his father explained before he could finish the word, "while secondary affinities are linked to the non-dominant hand. The biggest exception is with the second-tier elements like Ice and Wood, as those require two simultaneous primary elements. So her having Earth in one hand and Water in the other isn't _exactly_ anything to get excited about, but considering how young she is . . . to be showing both at such an age . . ." Thoughtful, and obviously _very_ intrigued, he mused, "I wonder if we could teach her, even if she's not naturally Wood-oriented. She's so young . . . Maybe . . ."

"_Dad_, Mom would _kill you_."

"I'll talk to her," was the decisive response. "This is too important to just leave Akiko strictly to civilian life. I've taught Hotaru some things and she's no ninja, so we can _try_. Besides," he added with a loose shrug, "Akiko could always start practicing and then realize she doesn't want to learn after all. It can't hurt."

"Why do you keep saying 'we,'" Naruto wondered, "like I can in any way _do_ anything about this?"

* * *

". . . This isn't an apartment," Naruto observed as he leaned back slightly to look up.

"Ooh, perceptive," Obito snickered, shifting the box he held. "You know, with a brain like that you could go somewhere."

Naruto rolled his eyes. A pale blue color suddenly caught his attention and he focused on Obito's mouth, from which a thing that was clearly a stick of pocky protruded. "What flavor is _that_?"

"Cotton candy," Obito slurred around the stick. "I don't know why I'm eating it, though—it's disgusting."

"Gimme one," Naruto demanded. "I've never had that flavor before." Not that he got pocky all that often to begin with, but he was familiar with most flavors.

"Ha, entitlement whore," Obito argued, even though he shifted the box again and retrieved a baby-blue box from the pocket of his jacket. He offered it, and Naruto took one of the sticks with a murmur of appreciation.

"_Obito_, get inside," Kakashi called, annoyed, as he reappeared from the indoors. He had made three trips already since Naruto had arrived from training a few minutes ago.

"_SIR_!" Obito shouted, his voice deep and obviously mocking, and jammed the pocky back into his pocket before whipping around and heading toward the house at a dead run. Kakashi watched him approach, then—without even a _hint_ of a smile—stuck out his foot at the last second and tripped his friend. As he went flying, Obito barked out a helpless laugh—"Hatake, you ass!"—and then belly-flopped on the lawn with significantly less grace than a beached whale. The box he had been carrying tumbled away, and fortunately there were apparently no breakables contained within because it made no noise when it hit the grass.

Kakashi dropped heavily to his knees, overcome by silent hilarity, then tipped back so far onto his heels he nearly fell over.

Obito was laughing and choking, tears streaming down his face as he rolled up onto his side, arms wrapped around his stomach, and finally gagged with enough force to produce the remains of the pocky stick that had broken and slipped into his throat at some point during his fall. "This will not go unpunished!" he howled as he slammed a fist onto the ground before getting to his feet, trying to sound dangerous but failing miserably because of the cackles issuing from his mouth alongside his words.

"_Kakashi_! _Obito_!" Hotaru shouted, exasperated, as Obito staggered in Kakashi's direction, clearly intent on revenge despite being so wracked with giggles that he was barely able to keep his balance. "One more time and I'm letting Arashi know about this! You _are_ getting paid!"

The two jounin—both also ANBU, and one a captain on top of it—scattered like cockroaches in a beam of light; Obito grabbed his box and rushed inside while Kakashi disappeared swiftly behind a couple of short stacks of boxes. Naruto, though, with the help of the kyuubi's ears, picked up the sounds of his muffled laughter. Obito exited a moment later, his face still bright red as he gasped for air, and darted behind the same boxes. The laughter coming from there escalated slightly as they . . . celebrated Obito's near death-by-choking, presumably. One of the stacks swayed just slightly, probably Obito shoving Kakashi for almost killing him. Or perhaps for laughing at him, even though Obito was doing the same.

"Here, Naruto," Hotaru said, much quieter but with a loud sigh. She shook her head in a way that Naruto remembered Sakura doing when he had done something she disapproved of, "could you take this inside, please?"

"Sure."

He grabbed the box and headed indoors. That was what Hotaru had wanted him to do the previous night—be a glorified moving man. It was a relatively typical D-rank mission—a mild form of strength training and obeying orders from multiple commanders in multiple locations—and he _was_ actually getting paid for it, so even though it was extremely boring he held his tongue; in fact, with the way Kakashi and Obito were goofing off, one word from her and he might be the _only_ one getting paid. It was also his first assignment since he had begun his training with the Third—since he had arrived in the parallel universe, for that matter—so despite its lack of excitement he could appreciate it for that uniqueness, at least.

Inside, it was very dusty. All the windows were open to help clear the stale clogged air, but despite that the girls who were there cleaning were wearing masks. Particles of particularly vicious and well-developed dust bunnies floated around, many of them visible even though they were not being illuminated by sunlight. Naruto wrinkled his nose and fought to keep from sneezing.

"Over there, Naruto-sama, thank you," Takara said, and pointed at the kitchen after checking what was to him an incomprehensible code of numbers and letters. But she seemed confident, so he accepted that she knew far more about it than he did.

Once he set the box down, he returned to Takara. "So why will Shinju be staying here?"

"Arashi-sama thought a house would be more comforting than an apartment," Takara explained. "Shinju's very sweet, but also very shy. She needs the boost of a _home_, not just a tiny lonely space."

"A huge house isn't lonely?" Naruto wondered. He had always thought an empty house would be much lonelier than an empty apartment.

"Sometimes," Takara conceded. "But Arashi-sama wanted to try. If things work out, I expect he'll want to nudge the other girls down here in shifts. A lot of them weren't properly socialized before they arrived, so they cling to the manor because it's familiar, and then they never go anywhere. Prompting them to care for themselves should get them jumpstarted on the way to a normal life. It's like a halfway house of sorts. They all clean, sew, and assist Aya-san in kitchen, so at the very least they'd be suitable wives if they could go out there and find a husband; but if they wanted they could have their own business, too. They just don't now because they're too scared."

"I see." He looked around. "This place better be in good shape."

Takara tilted her head. "Why would you say that?"

"It's a mess," he said. "Nobody's rented it in years. Is the landlord an asshole?"

She smiled. "I suppose that's a matter of opinion. This house and property belong to Arashi-sama."

Naruto blinked. ". . . Oh . . ."

"This is the house you spent your first few years in, before Arashi-sama was named Yondaime," she added. "For that matter, Arashi-sama grew up here himself; it was his mother's house, as I recall. I suppose your memory trouble really is that complete?"

He nodded and looked around again, taking everything in with wiser eyes—the dusty hardwood floor, the sheet-covered furniture, the many unoccupied plant hooks. He had never had a home beyond his apartment, unless one counted the entirety of Konoha, and wondered if perhaps there was a parallel of the home where he had come from—if it also was lying dormant, waiting for its master to return, or if it had long since been sold while he was too young to know, care, or protest. Or destroyed, considering the circumstances he had left behind. ". . . It does look nice, other than the dust. Those plant hooks actually had plants on them sometime, right? Not, like, wind chimes or something?"

Takara nodded. "I came here a few weeks before your family moved into the manor, but I remember that your mother was very fond of plants and had them everywhere." She smiled again. "There were some on the hooks, others on the end tables, still others standing in the rooms' corners and along the walls. It was very much like living in a rainforest, but without all the bugs and animal droppings. Arashi-sama . . . er . . . _encountered_ them frequently, but he was very patient—I think because your mother would kiss the point of impact whenever it happened."

_That would be clever if kisses were actually worth it,_ the kyuubi mused.

Naruto agreed it was clever, at least. The Fourth was a ninja—a Hokage-quality ninja; he _seriously_ doubted that his father had merely 'happened' to run into the plants that often, especially if he was rewarded with kisses for his 'suffering.' Naruto probably would have done the same thing. "Uh-huh . . ."

She tilted her head. "Were you thinking of putting up some plants, Naruto-sama?"

"Maybe a few," he said.

"Well, make sure you get a key so you can care for them," Takara advised. "I don't know that Shinju or the other girls will have time."

Naruto blinked. "'Other girls'?"

"I suppose you weren't told. Yes, like I said, even if Shinju doesn't work out, Aya-san and Arashi-sama and I feel some of the shier girls would do well to get out of the manor for a while, even if they just end up doing a sort of rotation out and then back in. Some of them came here long ago to have better lives, but it's gotten to a point where the only difference today is that they aren't being beaten or cursed. They're not taking those steps to become their own people and control their own fate. Maybe, if they come out here enough, they'll learn to come out of their shells, you know? So Shinju will actually be one of a couple of girls, and others will move in and out later."

"Who's staying with them?" Naruto asked.

"Huh?"

"To make sure they get out a little."

"Oh. Hm, good point. Arashi-sama and Aya-san certainly can't do it; I can't do it because I'm the only one of the older girls who hasn't gotten married and moved away, so Aya-san needs me to supervise at the manor while she's cooking. Hotaru-sama and Hitomi-san can't do it . . ."

Naruto looked around and sighed a bit, not exasperated as much as thoughtful. ". . . I guess I could do it."

"You, Naruto-sama?"

"You think I couldn't?" he wondered.

She looked at him for a moment, then giggled. "Naruto-sama, are you sure you want to be stuck in a house with a bunch of women? All alone?"

Naruto's mind drifted to the brothels he had routinely dragged Jiraiya out of just a couple of years ago. A gaggle of shy and terrified young women had nothing on the numbers of hardened prostitutes who had made it a point to drape their breasts over his shoulder; preparing for his Oiroke had served a stunningly useful side purpose by desensitizing him to the sight of any scantily-clad and naked women, and with the mannerisms of his 'sisters' he seriously doubted he, as the master of the house, would have anything _resembling_ that kind of problem. "I think I can handle it. Besides, their desire to please the son of their employer will make them easy to get out the door and into public despite their own reservations on the matter."

"True . . ." Takara conceded. "Well, you'll have to take it up with Arashi-sama. As long as you don't do anything perverted I don't mind at all, and I doubt Aya will either; it'll be a relief to know someone's seeing to their health and safety. And interacting with a boy will prepare them for interacting with men."

"Ouch."

"I didn't mean it like _that_," she chided. "But you're . . . not intimidating."

He snorted. "Nice recovery."

She smiled. "It'll be good for them in any case, right? You're male—that's the important part."

"It's humbling to find myself reduced to mere gender."

Takara's palms dropped to her sides with an audible _slap_. "Will nothing please you? Shoo! Outside! You're getting paid to work, not complain!"

With a snicker, he scrambled outside obediently and found Hotaru standing near the stacks of boxes Obito and Kakashi had been behind earlier. They were apparently still there, unless she had decided to shout at an empty patch of ground in effigy or something.

"—_unhelpful_!" she was scolding firmly. "Now _get up_ and _get to work_!" And when Kakashi and Obito crept out from behind the stacks of boxes, she swung a stick she had picked up somewhere and walloped both of them in the behind. "_GET_!" she roared. They hurried off immediately, and for half an hour there was peace as the house was cleaned and stocked.

For _half an hour_.

* * *

"Well?" the Fourth prompted brightly a few hours later. Naruto was far too exhausted and starving to be anything but irritated by his sunny disposition. He had done a lot of running around that afternoon, and coupled with his hard training in the morning it had not ended well. Of course, Naruto had to admit it would probably have been so much worse had he _not_ been training up to that point.

"I'm abusing my position," Hotaru announced loudly, a touch frazzled. Naruto felt bad for her; she had been forced to dog Kakashi and Obito to get them to do anything without turning it into a game or goofing off in some other way. It was one thing to turn a D-rank assignment into a competition to make a notoriously boring type of mission interesting, but it was something else entirely to more or less blow off the entire job. "I want the pay split seventy-thirty—seventy percent to Naruto, and fifteen percent to each of _these two_. And really, I personally think I'm being a little generous."

One of the blond's eyebrows went up and his focus drifted to his once-students. "_Oh_?"

"I can't even hope to tell you how much work they _actually_ did," Hotaru explained. "They spent a great deal of the time tripping and clotheslining each other and running everywhere so that some of the girls were nearly trampled. Shizuka was _terrified_ when they veered around her. _Twice_. I mean, I recognize that they're both highly skilled and experienced shinobi and they wouldn't deliberately harm any civilian let alone one of the girls, but _she_ didn't know that—or at least believed she was unlikely to get away unscathed under the circumstances."

The Fourth smiled broadly, careful to not show any teeth. Naruto found it very intimidating. "Obito."

The ninja in question smiled nervously, obviously no less intimidated. ". . . Sensei?"

"You better hope you've been nice to Uchiha Itachi recently. And that he's feeling generous."

Obito cocked his head, puzzled, but also very concerned.

"And Kakashi, you and Obito are confined to your home until I call for you. I'm charging _you_ with the task of explaining the situation to your father."

The two men wilted visibly and exchanged a look of despair.

"Naruto, I'll need to see you tomorrow after lunch, all right? In my office."

Naruto recoiled in response, silently alarmed. After what his father had just done he hardly wanted to hear that, no matter _how_ normal the tone of voice. ". . . Okay."

"Oh, about Naruto," Hotaru put in, and Naruto felt a surge of totally unfounded alarm before she went on with, "Takara mentioned something about him maybe moving into the house . . .?"

The Fourth tilted his head. "Did she? Naruto, here . . ."

Naruto approached the mission table, trying to look anything but as wary as he felt. "Yeah?"

"What were you and Takara talking about that led to that?"

Okay, that was simple enough. To give his feet a rest, Naruto knelt on the other side of the table and traced idle patterns with his finger. "Nothing much. She was just telling me about how the girls would be moving into the house. I asked who'd be governing them to make sure they'd go into the village at least a couple of times, but she said that there wasn't anyone." He shrugged. "I said I'd do it, that's all."

As though it was the perfect time to speak up, his stomach growled suddenly. And noisily.

His father did not comment or hesitate, just pushed a glazed pastry from its place by his coffee mug over to a spot where it was clearly within Naruto's reach. Naruto looked up at the elder blond and his father nodded, so he grabbed it; it was warm. "Be careful," was the paternal advisory, "the filling might be hot."

There was a whimper from where Obito and Kakashi were still standing. ". . . Filling . . .!"

"_Starve_," the Fourth replied sharply.

Naruto took a big bite of his glorious snack and savored the sweet glaze and creamy filling. He had heard parents get referred to as 'providers' before, but the exact meaning of the word had never come through; the logical explanation, for Naruto, had been that parents had jobs and bought food or clothes or whatever else their children needed to survive, and that was where he had left it. And while that was obviously true, he had just realized it went a bit deeper than that; 'provider' was followed by the unspoken 'even to their own detriment.' The pastry was warm, so it had been acquired recently, and his father had probably meant to eat it at some point to fend off hunger pangs before supper. But Naruto's stomach had given away its condition and so his father had immediately volunteered a personal snack for Naruto's comfort, even knowing that Naruto had money to buy something himself or could have gone to the manor and nagged Aya for something to tide him over.

It was an experience Naruto had never had before and doubted he would ever have again once he was back where he was supposed to be. Iruka's buying him ramen was the closest thing he could equate to it, but even that was more a treat than anything; while the idea was definitely similar and no less appreciated for it, Iruka was still not giving Naruto his _own_ bowl. The intent was somewhat different—a reward rather than a gesture of self-sacrifice. So what his father had done was really quite touching, and Naruto made sure to enjoy the pastry because the whole situation made him feel _wanted_—a rare sensation for him—and he was desperate for it to last.

Unfortunately, his father asked him to multitask. "All right, well, that's very generous, Naruto, but I'd like you to hold off on that for a few weeks, okay?"

Naruto swallowed, surprised. "_Weeks_?"

"Yes. I'm going to be shifting things around for you in the next couple of days, and I want you to settle into that before you worry about dragging extremely shy young women out into the world."

Baffled but terribly curious, Naruto said, "I see . . ."

* * *

To be continued in . . . **Chapter 21**** – Father's Thoughts**

"I'm sure you have other places to be, Arashi."

He turned, smiled slightly, and nodded once in acknowledgement of his visitor—something else Naruto's mother would have known what to do about. "Kyuubi. What brings you from your forest? Is there anything that I can help with?"

The kitsune stood and looked at him for a moment, blood-colored eyes giving nothing away. Though none of the shinobi of Konoha—who knew of the fox, at least, since no one beneath the rank of chuunin did—realized it, he and the fox had a less than amazing relationship. She had a power he could not really control, and he knew the techniques necessary to seal her away for eternity if anything terrible ever happened. It made their friendship uneasy at best. For him, anyway, knowing the kyuubi was just a blessing-curse of knowing Kushina.

* * *

**Answers To Questions You Didn't Even Know You Wanted To Ask:**

I received an amazing anonymous review for chapter nineteen which I will now offer here for your perusal. Here it is, in its entirety: _lol your characterisation sucks._ My response is as follows: _lol your review sucks._ Seriously, people, I have no qualms with reasonable criticism, and I'm certainly not going to pretend I can get every character's personality down perfectly (the bane of writing characters who already exist is that other people have interpretations as well), but if someone's going to complain and wants me to care, at **least** explain **why** you think my characterization or whatever sucks (most of you have done this already, but for the sake of discussion . . .). Because as it is, this review doesn't tell me anything except that it was written by some jealous ignoramus who was just looking for something to bitch about, and now I can cheerfully ignore him/her. Although I will say that at least s/he had the decency to spell properly.

Also, it was mentioned in a second anonymous review that gray and violet don't "remotely go together." First of all, this person has clearly never heard of heterochromia, which, while rare, does happen. Second, violet doesn't appear as an eye color anyway except in cases of albinism, and then only under certain conditions. Third, in an artistic sense white, gray, and black are considered _achromatic_ or _neutral_ colors, therefore all three will indeed "go together" with any color from the color wheel—including violet. Fourth, this fic is based on manga/anime—media where characters turn up with naturally pink, green, and blue hair, as well as pink (and probably others I can't remember) eyes. Fifth, and most importantly, taking into account number four in particular, I obviously don't actually care whether gray and violet go together or I wouldn't have written it that way to begin with.

All that said, I do believe I'm being trolled. How flattering. Anyway, I'm just sharing for your entertainment.

—

**"You weren't adept in the way Itachi was, I'll admit, but … you knew all the hand seals perfectly by the time **_**you**_** were two years old. …"**

I admit it—this is stretching the truth. At two years a kid has usually just learned to turn a page in a book, so I'm sure the intricacies of hand seals are a little much. However, I felt I kind of owed it to Naruto. Because Naruto is . . . well, he's not a genius, and he is definitely a tank; when you want stuff annihilated, Naruto is the one you throw into the fight. Naruto is not designed for delicate work like sensing or precision strikes, but he could cheerfully spend all day putting craters in the ground. So I gave him hand seals.

—

**"sensor-types **_**do**_** tend to be born more than made. … average shinobi can get away with the basic sensing abilities learned as genin."**

There's been some small question recently as to the role of sensor-types in the Narutoverse and whether or not that means sensing chakra is something all ninja can do; since Kishimoto did state in an interview that chakra was his answer for how ninja could perform techniques most people could not and he had been looking for something "like the ki" from _DBZ_, this is how I rationalize that. I'm sorry if I sucked at it.

—

**"Cotton candy," Obito slurred around the stick. "I don't know why I'm eating it, though—it's disgusting."**

As far as I've been able to tell, there is no such flavor—although there are lots of others. Therefore, I don't know whether it would be disgusting or not. If you see cotton candy-flavored pocky, please do try it if you're interested.

—

**Poll time again!** You know the drill—off to my profile with you. This poll is about Akiko's having a Wood affinity. Should she or shouldn't she? I already have a plausible (enough) explanation as to how she could have it—an explanation which would have been brought up at some point regardless, either in _VàV_ or its sequel—so that's not an issue, and I could personally go either way. Also, her having this affinity would not have much more mention or focus in _VàV_ and would only come more into play (and even then not much, so far) in the sequel. As usual, votes left merely in reviews will be appreciated but can't be counted, but if you'd like to elaborate upon your reason for your vote then feel free to go into detail in a review or PM.

* * *

It's time to play a quick game of _Draw Your Own Conclusion_! Sakumo is not pleased with his sons' bad behavior, and they have gone into hiding. If you review, you are clearly busy and can't be accused of harboring fugitives. Draw your own conclusion.

~RN (LS)


	21. Father's Thoughts

**Author's Notes:** I've had a scary few days. Some malware wiped out my security programs and destroyed my firewall. I had **no** protection. Eek! But I got some help, ran some scans, deleted some malware, and got back on track with a fresh download of my security program and a new firewall. Part of the virus in question is still in my computer, half deleted and currently quarantined, but it's apparently a recent discovery so I'm hoping for good things soon. (And my computer is running a little faster, too, with some of the crap gone. Hooray!) That's not the sole reason why this chapter is a little behind, but I did finish the chapter Wednesday evening and meant to have it done and posted by Friday or Saturday. That just didn't work out. Anyway . . .

HAPPY [UPCOMING] HOLIDAYS! (for those of you who celebrate something this time of year) This chapter is my longest to date, although only by about three hundred-thirty words.

**Word Count:** 7652 (**Total:** 128166)

**Date Submitted:** 12/18/11

* * *

**Chapter 21**** – Father's Thoughts**

* * *

Arashi ghosted his fingers across the bark of the tree he had found Naruto lying at the base of. He had not thought it possible after what had happened nearly eight years earlier, but that evening had been unequivocally the absolute worst in his life—to think, for even an instant, that he had lost his son. Two months later there were still bloodstains on the wood that could be followed up to about the height of his chest . . . roughly Naruto's height. He had to wonder, though, if he had not lost his son anyway; considering the circumstances, there was honestly no way he knew of to be certain that Naruto was really all right.

_Don't think about it,_ Anxiety whimpered. _**Don't**__ think about it . . ._

Arashi's mind turned away obediently, but the next logical train of thought was demarcated boldly by a smoldering fury. Even if his son _was_ gone he still had a son to take care of, and that only emphasized that his family had been attacked—yet singling out Naruto had, in the end, served no apparent purpose. Naruto had slipped away from his guards that day, avoided the rest of the village, and never been found until Arashi had managed to stumble across him. There should have been plenty of time to kill Naruto if the point had been to inflict the greatest possible damage to Konoha and her Hokage, and though a spy replacement was hardly a farfetched theory, Naruto's tiniest quirks remained the same; of all the things that could have been omitted, the obvious ones—memory loss and behavior changes—should not have been it. It should have been the little things—always forgetting chopsticks with takeout, arguing that orange clothing was a method of stealth training, even assuming a little more of his mother's personality when he felt stressed—that faded into the past.

He was not certain what it meant, although a spy replacement could never be totally ruled out. He had his concerns, but he had no proof. Naruto was Naruto, and yet somehow not his son. Or something. He wished the boy's mother was there; she would have known what to do.

"I'm sure you have other places to be, Arashi."

He turned, smiled slightly, and nodded once in acknowledgement of his visitor—something else Naruto's mother would have known what to do about. "Kyuubi. What brings you from your forest? Is there anything that I can help with?"

The kitsune stood and looked at him for a moment, blood-colored eyes giving nothing away. Though none of the shinobi of Konoha—who knew of the fox, at least, since no one beneath the rank of chuunin did—realized it, he and the fox had a less than amazing relationship. She—well, it, rather, as it had no true gender, though Kushina had always called it 'she'—had a power he could not really control, and he knew the techniques necessary to seal her away for eternity if anything terrible ever happened. It made their friendship uneasy at best. For him, anyway, knowing the kyuubi was nothing but a blessing-curse of knowing his wife.

The Uzumaki and the Senju were distantly related, so it was no surprise that Konoha had always been full of the symbol of her shinobi allies from Whirlpool Country. It was also no surprise, then, that the Uzumaki were as adept as the Senju at controlling the bijuu, if in a slightly different way; where the Senju were known for their ability to physically control bijuu, it was the Uzumaki who used seals to control bijuu through chakra manipulation. Unlike the conflict with the Uchiha, the Senju and Uzumaki had never had trouble getting along—although, quite frankly, it was difficult for _anyone_ to not get along with an Uzumaki if the Uzumaki in question was determined to have an accord with someone. As a result, there were numerous pockets of the Uzumaki clan all across the world, though many of them were probably unaware of their heritage despite that they doubtless used their family's knowledge on a nearly daily basis. And ultimately, those descendants served an extremely valuable function to the shinobi village to which their ancestors had been assigned by the Shodai Hokage.

They were the ones who controlled the bijuu between aigo.

There was all sorts of history and politics and doubts from the other shinobi nations, but the fact was that no Uzumaki in control of a non-Konoha bijuu had ever defected and taken the bijuu along. The Shodai had subdued and collected the bijuu with the help of his wife, an Uzumaki, and he had then handed one out to each war-capable nation that existed at the time. It was an act that had maintained a balance of power, and therefore a respectable—if tenuous—peace, ever since. With each of the eight bijuu had gone a family of Uzumaki familiar with its skills and behavior, so that no one nation would have a preliminary advantage over another, and the Shodai had absolved them of their loyalty to the Senju and Konoha so that the nation they were settling in would have their full cooperation from the outset. And the Uzumaki, whose loyalty was perhaps deeper than anyone knew, had obeyed even if they had not agreed; it was no secret that some Uzumaki _had_ been unable to forget their bond to the Senju and defected to Konoha, but they had _never_ attempted to take the bijuu with them.

Of course, regardless of the bijuu they knew best, the Uzumaki had all seemed to have a particular fondness for the kyuubi, perhaps because it had historically been the hardest to control and tame and the Uzumaki liked a challenge. In any case the Shodai's wife had insisted that the fox stay with Konoha, so the ninth bijuu had remained. Minding it had been a duty eventually passed down to Kushina, and for some reason—maybe because she had the temper and cunning to match the kyuubi—they had gotten along well. Arashi had nearly gone into cardiac arrest when he caught her allowing the large kitsune to hold Naruto, but the kyuubi had admittedly been perfectly careful and courteous. Not surprisingly, Naruto had taken to it right away, and Kushina had encouraged him to spend time with the fox. That had been all right with Arashi—because obviously Naruto would logically be expected to at least _know_ how to deal with the kitsune even if it was never put into practice—but he would have preferred there to be supervision. However, Naruto had shown his normally quiet nature was good at talking the kyuubi out of a temper tantrum; on more than one occasion his guards had reported that he had calmed it after it had been irritated by some farmer who had been clear-cutting acreage for cattle without permission.

Arashi had more than hoped that he would never have to be responsible for the kyuubi—it was too much for someone who knew markedly less than the Uzumaki did—but with Kushina gone Naruto had been too young at first to take over the duty, and Arashi had been the only one with the seal knowledge to be enough of a threat to be taken seriously. Naruto _had_ slowly been taking over the job, in a way; since Hotaru's mere presence had driven him out of the house he had spent virtually all of his free time with the fox, and good relations with the bijuu were crucial to keeping them calm and under control. But Naruto's amnesia had apparently undone all that, which meant that Arashi had to take over once more.

"I came to check on Naruto," the fox said as it sat primly, feet gathered together and long red tails fanned over the ground. "I haven't seen him for a while."

"I'm sorry you had to come out here," Arashi replied immediately. "Since you don't live in one particular den I wasn't sure how to get a hold of you. And, to be brutally honest, I'm afraid I forgot about you with all that's been going on. I appreciate your patience."

It straightened and its big ears lifted a bit more. "He's all right?"

"Yes," Arashi promised, relieved he could say that, at least. The Uzumaki fondness for the kyuubi had long since been answered by an equal fondness, and it horrified him to think of what the kitsune might do if it found out its favorite members of the clan were all gone. Kushina's circumstances had been understood if not agreed with, but Naruto's . . . probably not so much. The fox had already confessed that it all but viewed Naruto as its own child, and that made his safety even more important than most people could imagine. "But he was attacked about two months ago and in a coma for three weeks, and now that he's up and about he's . . ."

"Unusual," the kyuubi offered. "Curious."

He looked at it sharply. "Have you been watching him?" The civilians did not understand the bijuu, just outright feared the creatures. The kyuubi had promised Kushina—and proudly added that kitsune did not break their word—that it would never go into the village unaccompanied by either the redhead, Naruto, or Arashi. And while Naruto _had_ left the village proper he had not been out for long enough that the fox could have gotten a good grasp of his new identity. So how the fox knew of his changes was of concern.

"No," it assured him. "But there is something . . . new."

"He has your chakra with him," Arashi noted. "It's raised a few eyebrows, but nothing we need to worry about just yet. I trust that you don't intend to hurt him, but still, is there something about that you can explain to me so I can do the same if I'm asked?"

The kyuubi grinned widely, baring everything from incisors to molars in a way no human could ever hope to mimic. "My dear, it's not _my_ chakra."

Arashi blinked, startled. "But . . . it _feels_ like yours . . .?"

"And isn't _that_ fascinating?" the kyuubi mused thoughtfully. "Although if it will comfort you I will say that if it hasn't killed him so far he has it well in hand. He's certainly an Uzumaki."

"How can it appear to be your chakra but not be from you?" Arashi demanded. "Surely not even the bijuu can alter the traits inherent in their chakra."

"That, my dear, is entirely up to _you_ to find out," it replied coolly. "I did not come here merely to check on Naruto, and though I will certainly be looking into his situation in time I'm currently satisfied with his condition. You are his sire and will care for him, and my chakra—such as it is—will protect him."

"Don't you have even an _idea_?"

"Indeed," it confirmed. "An odd one, but not entirely beyond the realm of possibility. And you, yourself, should be more concerned about those clerics than your son, I think."

Arashi frowned. "The clerics?"

The kyuubi got to its feet and began to circle him slowly; he did not both to turn, as it was something the fox did when agitated. "I am aware they went after Naruto, likely because they detected my chakra in him. Arashi, I was attacked before Naruto was—that piece of metal he found in that tree was part of a weapon that had been aimed at me. They collected the rest of it, but must have missed that one piece somehow. Or left it deliberately," it added, "as a warning."

"A warning of what?" Arashi pressed. "To whom?" He was not hugely concerned about the kyuubi being attacked, as attacks on bijuu were relatively common. Most of the civilians were superstitious and scared, and those who failed to run immediately would generally attack a bijuu on sight, presumably—and erroneously—thinking that the bijuu's size at the time, and a lack of an aigo, indicated its level of power. Fortunately, the bijuu could normally be counted on to avoid any small numbers of aggressive civilians who had not previously irritated them.

"To me or Naruto, I suppose, and I imagine they intended it to mean they would return for one of us."

Uneasy the alliance may have been with Kushina gone, the alliance _did_ exist; the kyuubi and Konoha were to protect each other. Arashi knew that very well thanks to his wife's loud—_always_ loud—vehemence on the issue, and in a purely martial sense he recognized the advantage of the kyuubi's power. "Would you like to come into the village? You can stay in the manor with Naruto and me—"

"No," the kyuubi returned quickly, though it stopped in front of him and dipped its head as it said, "but I appreciate the offer. And I _will_ do this."

Arashi watched one of its tails suddenly pop loose. The root of it began to unfold and mutate, and when it landed on the ground it had become its own fox. It scampered over to him, sat at his feet, and gazed up at him with huge, innocent brown eyes. It looked very young, like a half-grown kit, and he scowled; he knew precisely what was going on, and what was worse was that the tactic was actually _working_ despite him. The fact was that Mother Nature had designed babies of all mammalian species to look cute, specifically so their parents were more likely to care for them, and that cuteness was something that frequently transcended the species. Irritated, he turned his displeasure toward the kyuubi. "That's not necessary." It was not; if the kitsune had wanted to be kept informed then he would certainly have let the little creation tag along in any case.

It grinned widely again and said, "_Ko Bunshin no Jutsu_."

He rolled his eyes.

"At least for now," it went on, serious again, "I believe that it might be safer for me, Naruto, _and_ Konoha if I remain at large. That way I can move freely and it will take more of their resources to target whichever of us is the one they want."

That was true. "Well, please don't hesitate to call on me if you need help."

"I won't need help."

Arashi made a face. "Stubborn fox, you _might_! Don't be so prideful!"

"Don't be so eager to leap into battle, Arashi," the kyuubi countered as it turned away and strode into the shadows of the trees surrounding the training ground, the tips of its eight remaining tails tracing subtle, idle patterns as they followed behind. "It comes to all ninja soon enough."

"_I'd fight forever for my allies_!" he shouted, not unaware that he had said to Naruto something similar to its words just the other month. It was different for him, however; he was the Hokage and it was always his time to fight, regardless of whether or not he actually wanted to.

Displeased by the encounter, Arashi nevertheless could not dig any deeper for the moment. Not only was it impossible to find the kyuubi if the kitsune did not wish to be found, but he had a meeting to attend soon and though it was more or less informal there was no reason for him to be late; Uchiha Itachi, after all, had an internal clock that was accurate to the nanosecond. So Arashi took another look at the tree trunk that had been stained with his son's blood and scowled violently. He then whirled away from it and, with the little fox clone creature trotting at his heels, headed for the administration building.

Itachi was indeed already there, politely—and very wisely—waiting outside his office to avoid suspicion and booby traps, but much to Arashi's surprise so was Naruto, who occasionally shot sideways glances at Itachi. He had expected his son to be a few minutes late; nothing dramatic, but a minute or two at least. "Sorry to keep you two waiting," he said as he opened the office door.

"It wasn't long, Hokage-sama," Itachi replied.

Naruto just shrugged. "I've waited longer." He then made a face and added in a mutter, "_Much_ longer."

Arashi sighed to himself. Hiruzen had suggested that Itachi teach Naruto, and while Itachi definitely had the speed and power to keep Naruto in line physically, it had yet to be seen if he could withstand the psychological brutality Uzumaki were capable of. The Uchiha were deliberate in everything they did; they thought about every action they took well in advance of actually enacting it, and in battle a wise opponent could identify their patterns and predict their moves—it was just a matter of moving faster and avoiding the Sharingan, which admittedly most shinobi could not do. By contrast, to say the Uzumaki were unpredictable was to make a grave understatement; they were the walking definition of 'scatterbrained,' and though they were also deliberate like the Uchiha there was no way to tell which thought was going to lead to which action, even when they stated it aloud. Even Naruto, in all his childish un-Uzumaki-like solemnity the past near-decade of his life, had never thought in much of a linear fashion. Itachi was an amazing shinobi, to be sure, and he could probably adapt to the Uzumaki tendency to be everywhere at once, but it would still take time and Arashi _really_ did not want to risk destabilizing one of the few Uchiha who seemed to have his head squarely on his shoulders.

He stepped into the office first. He never left traps on the actual office door since so many administrative personnel were in and out of the place even when he was not there, so technically he should have let Itachi or his guard detail—particularly the latter—enter first to check for enemy shinobi. But he was Hokage so he could watch over himself just fine, and quite frankly, if his guards could not slip past him into the room when he was not actively trying to get in first then they needed to go back to basic training. Besides, there had always been a few security seals in place around the office to alert the Hokage and the ANBU that someone was snooping in certain critical areas; the well-behaved administrative personnel would never set them off, so they would hint at a possible hidden enemy. He yawned behind the door as he let his guests in—he had been thinking too hard that morning, apparently, and needed a nap—then closed the door and went to take his seat at his desk.

It was only when he _looked_ at his desk that he actually saw it, and he twitched away in alarm. "Whoa!"

Naruto jumped, and Itachi straightened alertly. "Hokage-sama?"

Arashi realized how his exclamation could have been mistaken and held up one hand. "Sorry, sorry. Not an emergency. I just noticed that my desk is empty." He grinned broadly. "I don't have to work today. Or at least not for an hour or two."

Itachi apparently did not know enough about administrative procedures to feel comfortable responding, but Naruto said, "Not to put a damper on your imagination, Dad, but it's probably just stuck somewhere downstairs in the outer office."

That was likely true, but Arashi jabbed a finger at him anyway. "Quiet, you."

Naruto poked out his tongue in response, then sat forward eagerly. "So? So _so_? Are you sending me on an _awesome_ S-rank assignment?"

Arashi tilted his head at his eldest child. "Now who needs a damper on his imagination? You just wait. The only reason you're here is because this pertains to you." Naruto folded his arms but quieted, and Arashi turned to his other guest. "Itachi, how has your brother's private training been going?"

Itachi frowned, but only very, very faintly. He obviously did not understand the relevance of the question. "It's going, Hokage-sama. He's actually taking the test with the MP this afternoon."

"I see."

Naruto perked up. "Test? MP?"

Itachi peered at him, curious, then said, "I've been training Sasuke for a squad leader's position in the MP."

Naruto wrinkled his nose. "Yeah? Well, when he gets it, don't let it go to his head."

Itachi cocked his head, too wise to say anything about his tone. Arashi was not inclined to pursue the matter himself, but he wondered at his son's attitude. Naruto seemed absolutely confident that Sasuke was going to get the duty, to go so far as to say 'when,' even though Sasuke was little more than an above-average genin; while he was hardly anything to sniff at among his immediate peers, he was nowhere near the genius Itachi was and not overly impressive amongst the Uchiha clan as a whole. Of course, he definitely had great potential, but that relied entirely on his drive. Not that Naruto should have known or cared about that either way, because he had paid no attention to Sasuke that Arashi knew of. Not until recently, anyway.

"In that case," Arashi said to Itachi, "would you be interested in taking on a new student?"

Itachi blinked, but Naruto squawked and grabbed the armrests of his chair as though he thought it might take off and slam into the ceiling. He seemed to be alarmed at the idea that Itachi might teach him anything. "_What_? What's wrong with Sandaime-jijii teaching me?"

Arashi frowned. "He believes that he has nothing more to teach you; his teaching methods and your way of learning conflict, which he believes is putting unnecessary stress on you."

Naruto stared, then snorted loudly. "I'm not made of glass. I think I can handle a little conflict like that."

"It's not _that_," Arashi sighed. "You're not learning as well as you could, that's all. He believes that, in a way, he's holding you back."

Naruto sank back into his seat and folded his arms again. "He's an old man. He's allowed to do that."

"_Yes_," Arashi agreed, growing exasperated, "but it's not good for your training. He says you have plenty of energy and a willingness to learn, but with those you _could_ be farther along than you are." Naruto lifted an eyebrow at that but blessedly did not argue, so Arashi turned to Itachi in silent question.

Put on the spot, Itachi hesitated for a moment to collect himself. "Hokage-sama . . . I'm honored that you would make this request of me, but I'm afraid I must decline. Sasuke's situation is . . . unique . . . otherwise I would not have even trained him. I'm not interested in being a teacher."

"I see," Arashi murmured, not unaware of the relieved expression Naruto wore.

"I'm very sorry," Itachi added quietly.

"No," Arashi replied. He was disappointed, but not angry. "You're right—you've never shown any interest in teaching. I've already made contingencies; I just thought I'd ask."

There was a long silence in which Naruto fidgeted several times. Itachi sat very still, not daring to assume that he had permission to simply get up and leave; he would wait to be dismissed.

Or so Arashi thought, at least, until Itachi tilted his head. "Hokage-sama . . ."

"Yes?"

"Sasuke . . . probably won't pass the test."

Naruto, surprisingly, whipped around to glare at Itachi. "Why the hell not?"

Itachi shrugged. He looked displeased to say it, but did not let that stop him from doing so. "Training alone can't fully prepare someone for anything—it merely helps with adaptation. Positions of command, in particular, usually require practical experience. Unfortunately, Sasuke is simply too recently out of the academy to have that, and that will count heavily against him."

Arashi frowned. ". . . Then why . . .?" But he decided abruptly that it was better to not finish the question. Even if his parents asked, Itachi was independent enough to have protested going to the trouble of accepting a duty as tedious as training Sasuke when he was both uninterested in teaching and so certain his brother would fail the test. And if he had been ordered, he would have been more resentful than he really was. No, Arashi was positive there was an ulterior motive behind the task—one that was sensitive—and wondered if there was any connection to the unrest Fugaku had mentioned was in the clan. So he said instead, "Never mind. And? I'm sure he'll be distressed if he does fail, but I don't see how that's of any interest to me."

"Sasuke is much like Naruto-sama, Hokage-sama," Itachi explained. "He's considered a genin because he graduated from the academy, not because he passed the actual genin test; he went straight from the academy into the MP. At the time that was a good thing, because the number of graduates was one short of six teams. Sasuke and Naruto-sama not sticking around to join a genin team meant there were exactly fifteen students, which allowed the chuunin-sensei to build five full teams. However, especially now with the training he's just completed, Sasuke will have no use for what I've taught him should he fail the test. It will probably depress him greatly to have worked so hard for what is essentially no reason."

"That's true, but I still don't see the relevance."

"I can't teach Naruto-sama," Itachi offered, "but if you'd like, I'm sure Sasuke would make an excellent sparring partner."

Naruto perked up slightly at that, but Arashi hesitated. It was a sound idea, at face value, but . . . "I don't know if Naruto's really ready for—"

Naruto screeched immediately, "_What_? That's not fair! You can't say that—you haven't even _seen_ what I can do!" He folded his arms and slouched in his chair. "I appreciate your vote of confidence, oyaji . . ."

Dealing with the kyuubi's roundabout behaviors and the general stress of being in her presence had not been an ideal prerequisite for his current situation, and Arashi's last thread of patience gave out beneath the pressure of his son's childishness. He let his hand fall to the desktop, a gesture which produced a suitable _bang_ to emphasize his exasperation. Curiously, however, while Itachi's perfect stillness had been expected, Naruto did not jump then; he jumped _before_, when Arashi's chakra had flickered with irritation before he tamped it down.

Reacting to chakra was something most people did without realizing it, and it was something that could not be taught. Even genin had to have the experience of it; as Itachi had said about Sasuke, training helped people adapt rather than told them all they needed to know, and the only _real_ way to learn about chakra was to constantly feel it brushing against oneself from other sources. Further, like Arashi had told Naruto the day before, sensing chakra did not automatically come with knowing what information the chakra carried—emotion, intent, strength, affinity. One who had no experience with chakra would claim to feel a 'huge' chakra when it was actually nothing but a bluff by someone who knew how to intentionally exude a quantity of it over a wide area. Since logic would dictate no one would waste chakra that way, it was a common error among genin.

For Naruto to have jumped like that he had to have sensed at least intent, but possibly also emotion since the two were frequently intertwined. Merely sensing what had been a small surge of his father's chakra would have gotten him to focus, not startled him. At his age and level of experience, he should not have responded like _that_.

"Respectfully, Hokage-sama," Itachi put in, "I would like to point out that Sasuke would never deliberately harm Naruto-sama."

It was almost to a point where Arashi was wondering if he felt that was an issue any longer. Before, such a concern had needed its place because Naruto had no particular ambition, but since he had awakened from his coma he had reportedly made leaps and bounds in his growth as a shinobi. Still, admittedly, that kind of fast development just went to show how unprepared Naruto had once been. Arashi felt a sudden burst of guilt at the realization that Naruto might not have come to the harm he had if he had been pushed to train properly; at the very least he could have perhaps held his attacker at bay until help could arrive.

Arashi hesitated, then said, ". . . Maybe . . . Maybe, if he fails . . . in a few days—"

"_No_," Naruto interrupted sharply. He was sitting straight in his chair, his chest puffed with indignation. "If you two are so convinced he's going to fail, fine. I can't stop you from thinking that. But if he does then he won't want to mope—he's not that type. He'll be confused and frustrated and upset that he failed _you_." He wrinkled his nose at Itachi. "He'll want to get rid of that energy. If he fails that test then let me spar with him. Today. And you old men can watch just in case he almost kills me, if you really think that's likely to happen."

"'Old men'?" Itachi echoed mildly, apparently not understanding the insult that had been intended.

"All right, all right," Arashi answered. As much as the thought of Naruto getting hurt again—intentionally or not—frightened him, he did have to know for himself what his son could do. That, perhaps, would make it easier to let him wander around on his own or, even more, reassure Arashi that his contingency plan was not the farfetched hope he had been thinking it was. "You can have your spar."

Naruto _grinned_.

"Itachi, you're dismissed. Please determine your brother's exact temperament once the testing is done, and if you feel he could handle or would prefer a spar to cool down, bring him here. Obviously, if he seems upset and not in full control then we'll have to postpone."

"He's not going to _hurt_ me," Naruto scoffed.

"Maybe not," Arashi conceded. "But if he's angry and lands a particularly hard hit on you, you're likely to get angry and try to hit back in a similar fashion, and the violence would only escalate. I won't let that happen."

Naruto snorted, but made no other protest.

"Hokage-sama." Itachi dipped his head respectfully as he got to his feet. He then nodded acknowledgement at Naruto before striding to the office door; he opened it, held it for an administrative ninja bearing a stack of papers, then exited quietly.

"Naruto," Arashi sighed as the papers were set in the desk's inbox, "you . . . do whatever you want as long as you don't go far or get into trouble." Naruto shrugged, lifted his right foot onto his left knee, and began to pick at the sole of his sandal. Arashi took that to mean he had nowhere to be and bent to his own work. That was when the Kyuubi clone decided to share its presence.

Arashi had seen Itachi make a brief visual note of the fake fox kit outside the office door, but Naruto had not seemed to notice it at all as far as the elder blond could tell. So he continued to read, sign, and stamp papers, but kept his peripheral attention on his son. Since Naruto had not been out to see the fox recently and had not even mentioned it in conversation, Arashi was curious as to whether or not he remembered it. Because he found that odd, in hindsight—that a spy would have no apparent interest in the kyuubi's whereabouts or the whereabouts of its aigo. Even if the kyuubi was not the goal of the infiltration, it would be a huge oversight to not know how something like that was handled in a foreign country.

The clone hopped lightly to Naruto's uplifted leg and sat on his right knee, somewhat out of the way but not far enough to be ignored. Not that Naruto even made an attempt. He zeroed in on the fake kit and went very still, his gaze cautious but not frightened. ". . . Dad, there's a wild animal in your office."

"Yes, thank you," Arashi replied, feigning distraction.

Naruto narrowed his eyes at the fox, which tilted its head slightly, but he was not impressed by its cuteness and, indeed, his nose began to wrinkle as he snarled silently at it, as though he considered it some kind of threat. The fake kit was equally unimpressed and yawned widely to prove it. Before the confrontation could escalate, however, the fox perked up and looked past Naruto to the office door; despite his apparent distrust, Naruto did turn his head as though he believed it really had noticed something.

Someone knocked on the office door, and the fox immediately retreated to Arashi's desk, where it crawled out of sight and hid in the leg space. Arashi sighed. He did not want to be nagged, especially when he was trying to study his son's idiosyncrasies. "Enter." The door opened and he brightened despite himself because his guest was not an administrative ninja. "Ah, Gai-san. So you and your team have finally returned. How many days overdue was this? Nine?"

"Eight!" Gai answered, with _way_ too much energy considering how exhausted sixty percent of his students looked. The other thirty percent was as unnecessarily peppy as Gai. "But with the power of Youth, we persevered!"

Naruto was showing great interest in Gai and his team, which Arashi found curious. Gai's team was a year ahead of Naruto's own academy class, and seeing as Naruto had previously shown no interest whatsoever in even his immediate peers, it was odd that he would suddenly display it so openly. Apparently unable to help himself, he blurted, "What was your mission?" He looked them over and obviously noticed their attire, because he added, "Did you go up north?"

The female member of the team, Tenten, was seemingly the most tired of the team, because she jumped and looked at Naruto as though she had been unaware he was there. The two boys, Neji and Lee, did not look nearly as surprised. Gai smiled broadly and offered him a familiar thumbs-up. "It was naught but a simple escort assignment, Musuko-sama. However, inclement weather forced our client's caravan to seek shelter for several days, after which we had to break free of the drifts that had built around us. My adorable student Lee showed great proficiency with his Karyuu Endan and opened a path to the road for our client!"

Naruto's eyes widened and he looked at Lee. His tone was a touch disbelieving as he said, "Ninjutsu . . .?"

Lee mimicked Gai's grin-and-thumb. "My Fire techniques are powered by the Flames of Youth and only surpassed by Gai-sensei, Hokage-sama, and some members of the honorable Uchiha clan! But in time, through hard work, I will become as great!"

"Good for you . . ." Naruto trailed uncertainly. Despite his earlier enthusiasm, something about Gai's team had really thrown him off. He turned his attention to the other two students. "Neji, Tenten—you gonna make it?"

Tenten, laden with her usual sealed-weapon scrolls, straightened up immediately and waved her hand. "Oh yes! I'll be fine! Don't worry about me!"

Neji looked more than a bit ruffled and turned to Arashi to plead, "I need at least a week off, Hokage-sama. I can't take any more of this."

"I think you _all_ need a week," Arashi replied. He scribbled a note on a spare piece of paper and handed it to Gai. "Take this to the finance department—they'll arrange for your compensation and time off."

Gai bobbed cheerfully as he accepted the paper. "You are most generous, Hokage-sama! Your Youth burns as brightly as ever!"

Arashi smiled. "Thank you very much. You're all dismissed."

"_Come, my brave students_!" Gai boomed as he turned away. "We shall make the most of our free time!"

"Gai-san," Arashi called, and when Gai looked back he said, "Give them at least two days before you get back into your usual routine, won't you?"

Gai faltered, but quickly replaced it with a grin. "If you feel that's best, Hokage-sama, I shall do so!" He strode out, followed closely by Lee, who was commenting about spending his free time honing his 'new technique.' Neji lagged but went along.

It was Tenten who turned at the door, bowed deeply, and said, "Thank you, Hokage-sama. Some of us will need every minute."

"I recommend light individual practices," Arashi advised. "You don't want to be totally stiff when he grabs you for training."

"Yes sir. Thank you." Tenten pulled the door closed as she exited.

Arashi returned to his paperwork and observed, "That man is a trip."

"I'll say," Naruto agreed as he settled back in his chair. "Hey, Dad . . ."

"Hm?"

"About Lee . . . Has he always been able to do ninjutsu?"

Arashi paused. He had no idea what to make of that question. Other than Neji, Hinata's cousin, Arashi was pretty sure Naruto had never met Gai's team, and therefore would have little to no knowledge of the individuals' capabilities. It was illogical to ask, however, if one particular ninja had "always been able" to perform ninjutsu; few ninja could not, as persevering in the effort to be a successful shinobi was made very difficult without ninjutsu. The question was noticeably alien, as one might expect from an infiltrator, yet had no tactical value he could discern. "As far as I know. I mean, I do recall Gai-san mentioning that Lee-kun did poorly in ninjutsu and genjutsu at the academy and graduated only after displaying remarkable taijutsu skills, but with a small team Gai-san was able to focus on him more than the chuunin-sensei had, and Lee-kun advanced rather quickly. He's now quite advanced with various Fire techniques and is at least average, if not a bit above it, with genjutsu."

Naruto latched onto part of what he had said. "Why did he do so badly in the academy? Do you know?"

Arashi frowned thoughtfully at that. He had reviewed Gai's team's records just the other week to be sure they were prepared for the mission. "Mm . . . Something about . . . a weak chakra system? . . . Well, there _was_ an odd quality that gave him trouble when he was very young, but Obahime was able to perform a special surgery and prescribe certain exercises to help deal with it. She said it was fortunate that his parents were ninja, because they had an idea that something was wrong; it was good they'd caught it early, as it would've only gotten worse with age and he would've been permanently unable to use ninjutsu and genjutsu by the time he graduated from the academy."

". . . Obahime?"

Arashi rubbed his forehead. "Tsunade-sama."

Naruto brightened. "Baachan's here?" He paused and then scowled. "Wait, I'm still mad at her . . ."

Arashi found himself privately appalled. Tsunade was not really that old. Sure, she might have been old for a ninja, but not for a basic _person_. He supposed it was just a sign of Naruto's youth, to think a woman on the verge of fifty was old. Hearing that also brought up two problems. The first was that he was pretty sure a spy would not be so disrespectful of one of the Sannin, especially when Naruto had _never_ in Arashi's memory referred to Tsunade that way; the second was that it made _Arashi_ feel old. He was barely into his thirties—still _young_. Then the rest of what Naruto had said caught up. "Why are you mad at her?"

"She wouldn't let me see—"

Naruto seemed to realized far too late that he had let his mouth run away with him. Arashi was on the hunt. "Wouldn't let you see what?"

Naruto looked around as if for an escape, then said in a weak voice, ". . . My birth records . . ."

Arashi zeroed in on him, body tight with distress. "Why do you need to look at your birth records?"

"I wanted to . . . find out Mom's birthday."

"You couldn't have asked?"

"I wasn't home at the time," Naruto replied, sounding surer as he built on his little story. "So I just went to Baachan 'cause I knew she knew where it was."

Right. Because every young ninja who had a question about his parents would naturally think to go to birth records _before_ asking one or both of them. Even in information gathering, people were easier to get facts from than papers which were almost always under lock and key. Everyday people were where a ninja _started_ for information, not used as a last resort. Arashi's heart dropped. Only a spy, looking for something other than a birthday, would try to go to records because the goal was too suspicious to ask about.

That said, though, there was nothing about Naruto or Kushina that was special other than the fact that both were aigo to the kyuubi, and that was not exactly a secret. While civilians or ninja of low rank were not normally told about the bijuu—or aigo, by extension—that was less a security risk than it was for psychological comfort. All the countries who cared for one of the bijuu shared the name of the aigo with one another as a matter of goodwill, so a spy who wanted to know something like that could easily weasel into any other country's system and ask virtually any political administrator to look up the information. While it would not be too suspicious for Naruto to probe for information on the kyuubi, it would still be far less suspicious to go that route than travel to Konoha.

There was also nothing special about Arashi, were someone looking for information on him. Since he was alive, the exact number of techniques he knew or was studying was known to him and nobody else; the records were private and could be acquired through him alone. It would only be after his death that something like that would be transferred into the S-class section of the library. All of his nonessential personal information—parents' names and school grades and such, were considered a matter of public record, so even civilians could look up those things if they chose. Hell, even his pedigree and the basics facts of his missions records were accessible to anyone who was at least a genin, which Naruto was.

Except for the kyuubi, which could technically be considered a war machine and was therefore always at risk of theft by the unscrupulous, there was nothing of interest about him or his family. More, there was no reason to do something as dangerous as impersonate a member of the Hokage's family—especially someone like his _son_. Aya or one of the girls or even his teacher or Hotaru or his students, maybe, but not his _children_. And that did not explain the outcome of the tests that had been done the other month; Naruto's blood—barring the traces of the poison and the slight corpuscle damage Arashi was certain was from the kyuubi's chakra burning them—and basic encephalic patterns matched exactly the control samples that had been taken upon his graduation from the academy, and while his personality had changed since his coma, it was still quite easily traceable to Kushina.

The presence of the kyuubi's-but-not-the-kyuubi's bijuu chakra was of mild concern, but even though the fox had said the stuff did not come from it, Arashi was _positive_ it did. He had met the other bijuu early in his tenure as Hokage—it was a matter of diplomacy for a new kage to visit not only the other kage, but the bijuu as well—and though the bijuu came from the same source and thus had virtually identical chakra signatures, there _were_ nuances of element and personality that defined each as a unique entity, which most people did not bother to do; to those few who had actually met any of the bijuu, all bijuu chakra was the same. It was not the same to Arashi. He was sure. And although the kyuubi denied having anything to do with it, the fox certainly had not seemed worried. There was nothing he could do about its unhelpfulness, though, for the time being.

On the other hand, Naruto made the kind of mistakes that were far too amateur for a ninja who could mimic someone so well. The first mistake was that he had even admitted he was angry at her in the first place. That was childish and unprofessional—something that a spy would be careful to avoid unless the situation called for it, which it had not. The second mistake was acting surprised that Tsunade was in the village, then barely two breaths later claiming he had gone to see her for information. They were very glaring, cringe-worthy mistakes, and yet Naruto was making no effort to get away, or even acting as though he thought he had blown his cover. He was behaving like a child caught in a lie, and that was all.

Arashi did not know what to think anymore. Nothing made sense.

"So?" Naruto prompted abruptly.

Arashi blinked. "So what?"

"When's Mom's birthday?"

"July tenth."

Naruto surprised him by asking, "And yours?"

"January twenty-fifth."

He was even more surprised when Naruto carried it a step further. "Akiko's?"

"September thirtieth. What's this about?"

Naruto looked hurt. "I'm trying to get my memories back!"

There was another knock on the door, and although he was not intending to let the event fade into the past, Arashi raised his voice. "Enter!"

Itachi entered, Sasuke behind him. "Hokage-sama, Naruto-sama, Sasuke is eager to assist us."

* * *

To be continued in . . . **Chapter 22**** – Frog Kata**

"It's true that, under normal circumstances, only dead ninja close their eyes. But the properties of natural chakra allow a sage to detect threats from a greater range regardless of surrounding visibility, and as I said earlier, natural chakra is difficult to control. Since humans are visually-oriented, closing the eyes permits a greater focus to go to some other endeavor; in many cases that has led to death, but since natural chakra improves the range of threat perception there's actually little risk of being harmed from that particular action. Sages certainly don't _have_ to do it and arguably _shouldn't_, but the less practiced ones can do so without leaving themselves too open. And only a sage would feel comfortable taking the risk."

"Barring discrepancies in the time and circumstances, do you believe Naruto-sama is a toad sage?"

"Couldn't tell you for sure, although knowing kawazu kumite would absolutely imply it," Arashi mused. "But if at any point you witness him having some particularly frog-like traits—especially anything to do with his eyes—then yes, he is. And I'd love to know about it."

* * *

**Answers To Questions You Didn't Even Know You Wanted To Ask:**

**Anon** says: _lol your writing flow sucks more since you want such a good indepth analytic 'reasonable criticism' : your paragraphs don't run together at all i do hope my good indepth analytic 'reasonable criticism' has helped you a lot_

Flow is difficult to properly criticize, as much of it depends on the perspective of the reader and not what is simply 'right' and 'wrong.' What constitutes flow also differs significantly between fiction and nonfiction, and one cannot be applied to the other. Anyway, I am examining my current work and will double-check what I've already written when I (eventually) get around to copyediting the previous chapters, but I admit that I wouldn't have posted what I have if I wasn't satisfied with it, so I may be a touch biased and blind to my errors. Anyone who is in possession of a vocabulary superior to that of a fourth-grade child and is aware of the correct definition of "in-depth" is free to politely indicate a place where he or she feels my flow is wrong and suggest how it might be altered for improvement. As the author I do, of course, claim the final decision, but I will take your thoughts into consideration.

—

_**Don't think about it,**_** Anxiety whimpered. **_**Don't think about it . . .**_

Helpful Reminder: Like Sarcasm, Anxiety is not actually any kind of "split personality." They are simply the part of our mind that "talks" to us—the part that randomly generates thoughts and sometimes distracts us—only I've given them names based on what they normally represent because for Naruto and Arashi these parts are more specific for certain reasons and turn up more frequently. This is to differentiate conscious thought from unconscious thought (e.g., separate Naruto from Dark Naruto, for those of you who'll know what that means).

—

**… where the Senju were known for their ability to physically control bijuu, it was the Uzumaki who used seals to control bijuu through chakra manipulation.**** …**

Even though the Shodai is so far the only one noted in canon to be able to do so . . . Anyway, the idea is that the Senju can control the body, the Uchiha can control the mind, and the Uzumaki can control the chakra.

—

**They were the ones who controlled the bijuu between aigo.**

_Aigo_ means "protection." There's a **thing** I'm going to introduce later that will explain this in more detail, but to give you an idea, an aigo is essentially a jinchuuriki. It is not **identical** to a jinchuuriki, which is why I'm not calling it that, but the concept is similar.

—

**The fact was that Mother Nature had designed babies of all mammalian species to look cute, specifically so their parents were more likely to care for them, and that cuteness was something that frequently transcended the species.**

I don't know how much stock to put in this, but they've apparently done a **lot** of research on it. Head sizes, face shapes, and the like seemingly all contribute to what's perceived as "cute" by the adult(s) of the species, for the reason stated. If you've ever thought a human baby or a baby animal was adorable, this is likely why; further, it was speculated that some domesticated animals may have specifically evolved to be this way so that humans will accept them (cute babies are taken in, kept to adulthood, then they have cute babies, and so on, while the less cute ones are on their own as far as survival). And I said "mammalian" because I don't know that I've ever seen any cute baby birds, or fish, or frogs. Baby chickens, ducks, and turtles are cute, though, now that I think about it . . .

—

**"**_**Ko Bunshin no Jutsu**_**."**

_Ko_ means both "baby (human or animal)" and "child" (and is frequently used in female names like Akiko, Anko, Minako, etc.). So it's the Child Clone Technique. _Kodomo_, for the record, can mean both "child" and "children," and _go_ can apparently be a modification of it—the way "fire" can be both _hi_ and _ho_ depending on the situation—and is present in _minashigo_, which means "orphan" (as does _koji_).

—

**"**_**I'd fight forever for my allies**_**!"**

About ten minutes after writing this very cavalierly, while I was rereading the segment, I got a crawly feeling on my back. Because as much as I'd love to take credit for my genius, I honestly did not intentionally write it to mirror what Minato did in canonverse with regards to the Shiki Fuujin. But it does, and it's awesome, so it stays.

—

**Poll Results:** Well, Akiko isn't going to have a Wood affinity this time around. Thank you to everyone who voted, and a special thanks to those of you who went to the trouble of sharing your feelings about it!

—

It's time to play a quick game of _Draw Your Own Conclusion_! Arashi is currently seeing conspiracies in everything and is on edge. If you review, you will appear still and busy and therefore less threatening. Draw your own conclusion.

~RN (LS)


	22. Frog Kata

**Author's Notes:** RN is not pleased. Six months to put out a chapter that's only average in length . . . Not cool. I apologize in advance. I'm still not sure this chapter doesn't feel awkward somehow, so I guess I'll let you all decide. I thought I'd let it marinate a while, but that didn't do any good, and then I fell behind on the manga and anime. I'm still behind on the anime. But for whatever it's worth, I didn't forget about this fic or you all.

Also, nobody told me _Xenogears_ was on the PSN for ten bucks. Aside from the chapter-marinating thing (and tedious data-entry work that netted me some cash), that's been where I've been since the start of January—with my face glued to my PSP. I love that game to bits, and I've more or less been hemorrhaging pages of _Xenogears_ fics to get it out of my system (three hundred-thirty pages' worth over five stories) so I can get back to this without being distracted.

**Word Count:** 5945 (**Total:** 134111)

**Date Submitted:** 6/24/12

* * *

**Chapter 22**** – Frog Kata**

* * *

"I know you both pretty well, so let me just say something. This is a _spar_. That means there is no need for a victor, so no egos are to be burst—although as ninja you shouldn't _have_ an ego to begin with . . . Anyway, you are very similar in several aspects and not like other people you may have sparred with in the past. You're supposed to have fun with this and get rid of excess energy, not beat the crap out of each other and get frustrated. It defeats the point. Understood?"

"Yes, Hokage-sama," Sasuke confirmed.

"Of course!" Naruto replied with an excited thumbs-up.

Arashi looked between them, politely doubtful. Both had tempers and neither enjoyed settling for second place; although in admiration of his brother, Sasuke was constantly trying to catch up to and outstrip each of Itachi's accomplishments and became annoyed when compared to what level the elder had reached by his age, while Naruto was just simply competitive and did his best when he had a live human being to match. Arashi had not seen that part of him for a while—since he was seven or eight years old—but it seemed to be back for some reason. Which was another puzzling inconsistency, that he was so eager to get up and out on assignments. If he were a spy, running missions would take him away from his best sources of information. Unless, that was, he was trying to establish a line of communication with someone.

_Damn it, nothing makes sense! If he's that much of a pro at this, how can he be screwing up so obviously? There's absolutely __**no**__ reason for him to be so noticeably __**off**__ merely to upset me! Even if the goal were to render me ineffective in some way, surely the information is always more important; especially with the Sandaime still alive, the Hokage could be replaced almost instantaneously, and that makes stressing me out like this pointless! Someone out to get revenge against me would either pose as Naruto and kill me as fast and as secretly as he could to avoid being detected, or grab as much information as possible before he was found and take it to his allies or some other enemy of mine. What's the meaning behind such weak psychological torment over the course of __**months**__?_

He shied away from the idea, but had to admit it would have been far better to have killed Naruto outright and left his body for Arashi to find, not cut him up and let him be rescued. The worry about Naruto being attacked again was nothing compared to death. It was a fact the world over that a kage's family was in danger from day one; sometimes they were killed, ideally they were protected. And with the death of a family member, especially a child, the sense of failure would be eternal. As distressed as he was at the moment by Naruto's strangeness, it would be much, _much_ more devastating to him if someone were to kill one of his children—particularly the one who was his last remaining connection to Kushina—than it had been to have to deal with all the idiosyncrasies. Naruto was _alive_, and for Arashi that was all that mattered. Such little things could be worked through in time.

'_If you eliminate the impossible,'_ Anxiety mused restlessly, _'whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth!'_

Yes, but the problem was that Arashi found that what remained was a bit too wild for his tastes. He sighed and backed away from the boys, toward where Itachi was waiting. The elder Uchiha brother had been barred from observing the MP testing—a precaution meant to forestall complaints from those who were too closely related to the participant, be they family or a tutor—but for a casual spar Arashi was not worried about Itachi being there. Indeed, if the spar got out of hand then Arashi would be glad to have the extra pair of hands. "All right," he said, a touch reluctant, "have at it."

Clearly hoping to gain the initial advantage, Sasuke and Naruto each leaped toward the other. Naruto went for a punch, but broadcast his intentions too soon. Sasuke dropped for an ankle shot. Naruto tripped, but managed to get his other foot under him, only for Sasuke to slam his elbow into the back of Naruto's knee. Naruto went down, but threw his hands out and performed an ungraceful but effective handspring. He came around with his right knee. The impact with Sasuke's crossed forearms staggered both of them.

"Sasuke's motions are crisp," Arashi observed. "You trained him well."

"I'm afraid I can take little credit," Itachi replied, Sharingan alight as he studied the participants. "Sasuke sees me as an obstacle to overcome, and that drive dictates his discipline more than anything I could teach." A tiny frown crept over his face. "Hokage-sama . . . I mean no offense, but . . ."

"You expected more from Naruto," Arashi finished. "Frankly, so did I."

Really, Arashi had to admit that Naruto looked like he had expected something more from himself as well; the younger blond was scowling fiercely as he fought to find a pattern in Sasuke's style as well as increase his own speed. Nothing seemed to be working, though, and Sasuke practically danced around him. What was surely the most embarrassing part was the fact that Sasuke was not using his Sharingan at all—Naruto just kept blundering all over the field as though he was wearing a blindfold.

"I'm glad they're limiting themselves to taijutsu for now," Itachi said. "At this rate, Naruto-sama could be injured if they moved on to ninjutsu."

Arashi nodded pensively. He did not understand what he was seeing. As he watched his son get more and more frustrated, he wondered why Hiruzen had assured him Naruto was prepared to handle low C-rank missions. All he could see was that Naruto was barely ready for D-ranks, like he was straight out of the academy. But at the same time, he was sure his predecessor would never have said it if it was not true, and Naruto's expression certainly lent to the idea that he could do better. "Why is he having so much trouble . . .?"

Sasuke swung a roundhouse kick at Naruto's head, and that was when things . . . just changed. Naruto set his feet, lifted his arms to defend himself, and took the strike without flinching. Sasuke, obviously expecting to be deflected as opposed to stopped, had to shift his weight abruptly to properly account for the change.

Arashi tilted his head.

"Curious," Itachi mused as Sasuke briefly gave away his confusion. "Do you think it was intentional?"

"I think he lost his patience," Arashi corrected as Sasuke took his turn with being on the defensive. "This is much more like what Sandaime-sama was conveying to me earlier. But why was he hiding it? Surely he didn't think Sasuke was a pushover after the way he was talking in my office."

"That's a strange style," Itachi noted. "It's nothing I'm familiar with."

"Myself either," Arashi agreed. "I wonder where he got it from."

Sasuke finally got irritated by his retreat and upped the ante. He increased his speed and began to ruthlessly exploit the gaps in Naruto's style. However, Naruto possessed what could be politely termed a 'strong constitution' and barely flinched from many of Sasuke's pinpoint strikes.

"How can he stand that?" Itachi wondered. "I know those aren't glancing blows."

"The Uzumaki are built like oxen," Arashi explained, amused. "The entire clan is known for having strong vitality and nearly outrageous amounts of stamina. The Namikaze have unusually high levels of the latter. Well," he amended absently, "the Konoha branch of the family, at least. Special situation. Anyway, even with so little training Naruto is naturally able to take more and worse hits than most. He's clearly learned to turn that trait to his benefit." It was nevertheless an extremely dangerous habit to get into. Various Uzumaki had killed themselves by shrugging off injuries, and Arashi had come alarmingly close to it himself when in high-pressure situations. Getting distracted by adrenaline—or worse, ego—and relying so exclusively on a finite source of power was not good discipline.

Naruto did not simply take hits, though. While Sasuke was busy jabbing and kicking, he used the proximity to get in his own strikes. One nasty punch to the flank was all it took for Sasuke to decide it was time to exercise a renewed caution. He withdrew a short distance. Both boys circled, studying each other's movements. They were on an even keel finally.

Then Naruto made a surprisingly impulsive, impatient attack, and the fight began again.

It seemed to take ages for him to reach a conclusion, but Arashi finally realized why he had been unable to identify the style Naruto was using. Because there _was_ no style. Or, rather, it was a mishmash of moves that Naruto arguably should not have known well enough to remove from the parent styles, inserted between moves only loosely associated with styles Arashi recognized. _Nonstandard, Juuken, Gouken, academy basic, Gouken, nonstandard, nonstandard, academy basic, Juuken, nonstandard, academy basic . . ._ He stopped, stunned, at what he saw next.

Itachi, of course, noticed right away and glanced over. "Hokage-sama? Did you see something?"

That was a big reason Arashi liked Itachi. He was not pretentious. Even if he somewhere retained a polite disbelief that someone could see something his Sharingan could not, he first of all never conveyed that belief—even if it was only to not look like an idiot—and at the same time he did seem to privately realize the Sharingan was not perfect and that there _were_ things it could miss if the circumstances were right. And at the moment they definitely were; Arashi was positive Itachi was not able to identify all the styles Naruto was using. "Yes, I did. A moment . . ." He waited, observed, and it happened again—slightly different, but perfectly executed.

Arashi's preferred teaching method was understandably similar to Jiraiya's and the Third's; in all cases, the idea was to promote self-improvement in the absence of a proper educational setting, although where Jiraiya forced his students to either figure it out alone or ask specific questions to get a hint, Hiruzen and Arashi were the ones who asked the questions. Itachi was far from inexperienced and hardly in need of further education, but there was no harm in prompting him to think for himself. He was smart, and the little mental exercise would do no harm. "You've noticed his style of fighting."

"If it could be reduced to the singular, yes," was the confirmation. Apparently, Itachi had been watching Naruto more closely than Arashi had thought. But he could work with that.

"What do you see?"

Itachi continued to watch the fight, and as he recognized the styles in use he listed them. "Juuken, Gouken, academy level one, Gouken, academy level three, academy level two, Gouken modification, Juuken, Juuken . . ." He hesitated as another 'giveaway' was utilized and blended into the next. ". . . Juuken modification, academy level three . . ." Another uncertain pause. ". . . academy level one . . ." Yet another pause. Finally, Itachi said, "There is something I've never seen before. Either it's something entirely original or something very foreign. Whichever it is, it seems fully structured."

"Well, it's a little of both," Arashi replied. "It's not _exactly_ foreign, as it does originate from within Fire Country, but the number of people who can learn it is pretty small and the number of people who can actually utilize it effectively is smaller still. In fact, I know the exact number." Itachi turned to him, curious, and Arashi held up his index finger. "One."

Itachi tilted his head slightly and lifted one eyebrow—secret Uchiha body language for, _What the hell?_

"What you're seeing," Arashi explained, "is kawazu kumite—frog kata. It's a taijutsu style taught to and by the toad sages of Myobokuzan. Nowhere else. The only human being to date who has ever qualified as a toad sage is Jiraiya-sensei."

"Not you as well?" Itachi almost sounded surprised, which was flattering.

"Senjutsu involves blending the natural energy of the world alongside the physical and spiritual energy we use every day. Natural energy comes from without, so it's a nearly infinite source of power and many times stronger than the energy of body and spirit, therefore it's markedly harder to control. As a result, a very large chakra capacity is required for someone to be considered a potential student, otherwise the natural chakra would simply overwhelm the system from the start. My capacity is above-average and my chakra control is perfect, and though the elder toad who assisted me said I probably didn't have a reserve large enough I attempted to train in it with the hope that my control would balance that shortcoming. I won't say I _failed_, since I did make some progress, but the penalty for true failure is an eternity as a stone frog. Seeing as I, at the time, was newly married with a child on the way, I had to decide what my priority was." Arashi shrugged. "It wasn't risking my life to learn senjutsu."

"I see."

"I_ am_ what you might call a journeyman sage, though. With special permission from the elder toad I trained with, I've mastered kawazu kumite as much as I can—up to the point of including natural energy, which is primarily what gives the style its punch, if you'll excuse the pun." Arashi plucked at his overcoat. "That's what this coat is for, minus all the pretty kanji. It's a sign of the training I've undergone. I do frequently use those kata in battle because as a little-known style it makes me far harder to predict, but I can't really call myself a true sage."

"And I suppose this is something you haven't instructed Naruto-sama in," Itachi guessed.

"There's been no point before," Arashi confirmed. "Kawazu kumite is based partly on the employment of visual misdirection, but because it's a form of taijutsu it's only properly functional in a zero-range situation. With Naruto showing no previous interest in his training, even though he has a suitable capacity to complement senjutsu, there was no reason to attempt to teach him something that starts off with forcing him to be perfectly still inside and out for hours on end, and then places him in the direct path of danger later—he'd never have agreed to it. He'd have to _want_ to learn."

"Jiraiya-sama hasn't been around often or long enough for him to be comfortable with the motions," Itachi concluded. "So he must have learned it on his own somehow. Of course, he hasn't yet signed the toad-summoning contract either, I imagine."

"Absolutely not," was the answer. "At his level, it wouldn't have been worth the time to try to teach him."

"And the toads wouldn't approach him at random, even if he is your son."

"Correct. If only because he's a ninja under my command, they wouldn't take him without my permission."

Itachi was quiet for a moment, his focus back on the spar, then said, "I'm afraid I don't understand."

Arashi smiled. "That's all right. I didn't expect you to. But it lends credence to a theory of mine. I still have research to do, but if this is anything to go by then I do believe my son is indeed my son. Or close enough, anyway. It's utilized so rarely that no mere spy would be able to mimic kawazu kumite so well, even without natural energy."

"Barring discrepancies in the time and circumstances, do you believe Naruto-sama is a toad sage?"

"Couldn't tell you for sure, although knowing kawazu kumite would absolutely imply it," Arashi mused. "But if at any point you witness him having some particularly frog-like traits—especially anything to do with his eyes—then yes, he is. And I'd love to know about it."

"Immediately, Hokage-sama," Itachi acknowledged. He was quiet for several minutes, then said, "I could find out for you momentarily, if you'd prefer to see it yourself." It was clear he meant to startle Naruto. In the event that Naruto was being more cautious about his moves than it seemed, being surprised would hopefully provide the best opportunity for an instinctive response, and therefore the possible revelation of more information.

Arashi turned to Itachi, struggling to restrain his heart from its effort to take residence in his throat. Itachi had been one of the ANBU guards present on That Day; he had traded a mission for Kakashi's guard duty to attend one of his cousins' birthday parties. And though Arashi would surely always wonder how differently things might have gone had Kakashi been there, he had never forgotten that Itachi had been the only one to break rank and refuse to take part. The team captain had brought up his insubordination once Arashi had felt he could put up with hours of stamping and signing things, apparently expecting punishment to be dealt or that he would allow punishment to be dealt by someone else with authority. Arashi had not wanted to face anything to do with the whole event, but it had been so unlike Itachi to outright refuse a command that he had been curious despite himself. What Itachi, at the time a newly-minted eleven-year-old ANBU still on probation, had said that day had never left him.

_"Like the rest of my team, Hokage-sama, I examined all the evidence offered by the investigative team that led to the incident, but I could not in good conscience agree with the conclusion they reached with the assessment of so little information. My team leader dismissed my concerns as inexperience and declined to even hear them. I do not deny that, as a result, I made the deliberate choice to ignore an order given to me by my team captain."_

_"It's not your place to decide the validity of the information provided."_

_"It is not, Hokage-sama."_

_"But?"_

_"Hokage-sama, the ultimate duty of ANBU is to protect the Hokage at the cost of their own lives, but I fail to recall any implication that such protection was limited to defense against physical attacks."_

_". . . Explain."_

_"The health and safety of the Hokage's family is important to him, am I correct?"_

_"It is deeply important."_

_"Then as a member of ANBU I am also charged with protecting the Hokage's family, if for no other reason than to protect the mental and emotional health of the Hokage, alongside his physical health, to ensure his ability to continue to function optimally in defense of Konoha. I should in no way place his mind or heart under any form of stress which I cannot satisfactorily justify."_

Itachi had been right. So, so right. Of course, the Hokage's family had always been under ANBU protection regardless of whether or not the Hokage was with them, but _why_ the family was guarded had never been looked at from that angle. It had, indeed, always been seen from the physical aspect—abduction, ransom, killing—and nothing more. Families were so ingrained in even shinobi culture—usually defined by most hard-line types as "a necessary liability" because of secret family techniques or a good performance record—that everyone conveniently forgot that having a family and especially keeping it close was actually or could easily become an expression of emotion, which was a rather blatant violation of shinobi rule twenty-five. But there had never been a precedent to draw the idea from before, so it had never once been addressed, unfortunately.

_"You still refused orders from a superior."_

_"I did."_

_"And that's all you have to say?"_

_"Only if you wish to close the issue there. I realize this is . . . difficult."_

_"I'll listen."_

_"Hokage-sama, in light of what occurred that day, I feel it necessary to recommend that all ANBU placed on guard duty during that time be purged from the ranks of Konoha shinobi as soon as possible."_

_". . . You realize what you're saying."_

_"Every member of the guard detail betrayed you, Hokage-sama. Even if the evidence had been suitable for the act committed, we still would have inflicted grievous psychological distress upon you. Referring to what I stated earlier about the safety of Konoha, such actions amount to nothing less than treason, and treason is punishable by death alone."_

_"What about you?"_

_"I include myself, Hokage-sama. I did not take any direct part in the event, but my failure to act on your behalf was its own betrayal. Because of that I must submit myself for termination as well."_

Arashi had _wanted_ to kill them all—wanted to kill them _personally_. But at any one time there was never a huge number of ANBU around, and like Itachi had said, no matter the state of the evidence, the outcome would have been no less traumatic. The only way it could have been worse was if something had happened to Naruto. But no, his mother had protected him—both of them—and killing the guards would have changed nothing about that day. So Arashi had spared the entire guard detail, who upon being called into his office for his verdict had seemed prepared and willing to execute themselves, but he had punished them harshly by keeping them busy with assignments for as long as possible without maliciously endangering their lives, then confining them to quarters while they recuperated before starting the process over again. Itachi and the team captain had gotten special additional punishment, Itachi for rebellion and the team captain for unprofessionalism and endangerment. Itachi may have been so new as to be on probation, but it was a poor captain who would not even listen to a subordinate's thoughts; that condescension crap had gotten whole teams killed in the past.

Itachi's surprising shrewdness at that age regarding such a convoluted event was the reason Arashi gave in to his curiosity and said stiffly, "I place my sanity in your hands, Uchiha-san."

Itachi looked at him, closed his eyes, and dipped his head. "You honor me, Hokage-sama."

Not really. Because if something happened Arashi would probably be unable to refrain from killing Itachi right in front of Sasuke, and he did not doubt that Itachi would not appreciate him traumatizing the boy.

The fight wound down—both boys were getting tired, though for some reason that fact seemed to annoy Naruto in particular—and at a suitable moment Itachi armed himself with a pair of kunai and leaped toward the two combatants. He struck out at Sasuke first, who somehow seemed to be both surprised and not—Itachi had probably sprung little traps on him before, to keep him on his toes—and when Sasuke was able to deflect him adequately he turned on Naruto. Arashi almost stepped in right then, when Naruto's eyes first widened in alarm, but he held back and placed the remains of his faith in the son of his old teammate. And in that brief interval Naruto's eyes narrowed, then closed, and he went utterly still. Itachi's kunai got a bit too close for Arashi's liking, but Naruto lifted his arms and almost casually deflected the strike, his eyes opening during the process to spot any further attack. But Itachi leaped back to rejoin Arashi, his goal abandoned for the moment.

Naruto's expression was surprisingly thunderous, and his voice was no less. "What the hell was that for?"

"It's okay," Sasuke said calmly. "He does that all the time."

Naruto looked over at him, but accepted what he said and relaxed. He held out his hand. "Done?"

Sasuke clasped it. "Done."

"It seems I failed, Hokage-sama," Itachi said quietly. "I apologize for upsetting you needlessly."

"Actually," Arashi corrected as he watched the boys discuss the tactics they had used in their spar, "while you weren't able to incite him to make a usage of senjutsu inarguably clear, you did have him show me three equally informative things."

"Sir?"

"First of all, he's not some inexperienced fighter. He was definitely surprised but apparently not frightened, and could still think under pressure. Second, the stance he assumed in response to your approach was definitely from kawazu kumite. Third, he closed his eyes."

Itachi tilted his head. "I did notice that, but I didn't realize it signified anything more than foolishness."

"It's true that, under normal circumstances, only dead ninja close their eyes. But the properties of natural chakra allow a sage to detect threats from a greater range regardless of surrounding visibility, and as I said earlier, natural chakra is difficult to control. Since humans are visually-oriented, closing the eyes permits a greater focus to go to some other endeavor. In many cases that has led to death, but since natural chakra improves the range of threat perception there's actually little risk of being harmed from that particular action. Sages certainly don't _have_ to do it and arguably _shouldn't_, but the less practiced ones can do so without leaving themselves too open. And only a sage would feel comfortable taking the risk."

"But I didn't see his eyes change," Itachi pointed out.

"The only time there's a physical manifestation like what I mentioned is when the natural energy is present in the body," Arashi explained. "That's its best and most controlled form, as it's already contained and available to be mixed with a sage's chakra and used for senjutsu. Its behavior and range are simply superior because the mere fact of its containment concentrates and accentuates its traits. However, having the proper discipline means a sage is capable of being more sensitive than most to the natural energy around him; as long as he's still he'll become aware of it and, by extension, everything within a certain radius. So in the latter case, rather than mixing natural energy with his chakra, as is required for senjutsu, and making it a part of himself, a sage exudes his chakra and thereby connects to the natural energy, which allows him to become part of it instead."

Itachi tilted his head again, still thoughtful. "Then you believe Naruto-sama was in contact with the natural energy but not in control of it, and that was why he closed his eyes?"

"Precisely."

Sasuke and Naruto turned and began to approach, still chatting. Naruto's gestures indicated that they were yet talking about their fight.

"—kind of surprised you didn't," Naruto finished.

"I wasn't sure how far advanced you were," Sasuke replied. "And your taijutsu made it impossible to gain the space and time needed. I guess I need to work on that."

"Hey, yeah," Naruto responded, "why _didn't_ you use your Sharingan?" He frowned. "_That_ doesn't need hands. You thought I'd be weak or something?"

"I just returned from testing, Naruto-sama," Sasuke reminded him. "I'm not exactly at the top of my game."

"Oh, so _that's_ why you wimped out and stuck to taijutsu," Naruto said slyly, a grin on his face.

"No!" Sasuke protested. "I have _plenty_ of chakra left! See?" His hands flipped through several signs and he lifted his right hand to his mouth.

Itachi and Arashi both straightened, concerned. That was _not_ a close-range technique. "_Sasuke_!" the former barked, but it was too late.

"_Katon: Goukakyuu no Jutsu_!"

The fireball—the prized technique of the Uchiha, the proper utilization of which was viewed to be a sign of adulthood in the clan—was as massive as one would have expected from an heir of the head house. Sasuke had been able to form it since he was seven, so it took shape quickly and easily and filled the immediate area with blinding firelight. It was a stupid thing to do but the preteen clearly had it under control, so at first there was no apparent emergency. Then Naruto, behind and obscured by it, let out a shout, and in the next second the fireball became a raging tornado of flames. Sasuke understandably lost control of it at that point—it began to twist and skitter across the ground, and the boy stared in panic at a thing that was easily three times the size of the original fireball.

Itachi was fast, but Arashi was faster; the blond got out to Sasuke first, grabbed the boy around the ribs, and leaped back. He released Sasuke into the elder brother's care and tried to find Naruto. But the raging fire cyclone was too bright to see around and too loud to hear over.

"It's somehow become a collaboration technique," Itachi said with the kind of calm that Arashi might have slapped him for had there been the time. Sometimes, the Uchiha ability to be unruffled was amazing—other times it was insufferable.

Sasuke looked up at Itachi, panicked. "Collaboration? But how did . . . And how will . . .?"

Arashi knew. Clearly the boys had been of a like mind to get it to work in the first place, and Naruto must have had some level of training in elemental manipulation . . . but apparently not enough, if he had tried to use Wind against Fire. And, of course, a collaboration could not be dealt with by anything except another collaboration; the combined elements automatically strengthened one another beyond the control of any other single element, so water alone could no longer douse the fire. Fortunately, Arashi had everything necessary in his hands—quite literally, too. He flipped through the necessary hand seals, then pulled his left arm back.

"_Suiton: Hahonryuu_!"

He did not really have to thrust his arm forward to get the water to leave his hand, but he wanted it to have some force when it hit the fire. Even though Water was his secondary affinity and he was therefore rather adept with using it compared to some of the other elements, his skill was not nearly on the scale of the Nidaime's—which, in hindsight, probably _could_ have choked out the flaming tornado regardless of it being a collaboration. With the water well on its way, he clapped his hands together for the other half of his one-man collaboration. Since he was doing it himself he had little time.

"_Fuuton: Reppuushou_!"

The blast of wind that hit the advancing water gave it a serious bump. It pushed itself out into the water's naturally resistant form, far and fast, until the surface tension and the weight of the water caused it to curl over itself and crash hard into the side of the fiery cyclone.

"_Chouryuu Shougeki no Jutsu_!"

There was a horrible, loud, protracted hiss as the water and wind swirled powerfully around the tornado's circumference like a suspended segment of ocean surf. Steam began to billow thickly into the air and the sound of its creation soon drowned out the crackling roar of the fire. The combination of moisture and gas filled the sparring area, turning red as it reflected the fire, then orange, then yellow, and finally a pure white as the tornado's spin was halted by the competing winds and then its fire was washed out and consumed completely.

When the steam cleared away, the area appeared to empty. Arashi searched around desperately—_surely_ the technique, collaboration or not, would not have been strong enough to completely vaporize his son's body when it had been performed by two novice ninja, no matter how skilled. "Naruto?"

He spotted movement across the clearing, and then a blond head popped up out of a clump of broad-leafed plants. Blessedly, it was indeed Naruto, and he did not even appear to be singed. "That was _fucking awesome_!" his son roared cheerfully, one of the huge green leaves bobbing over his head. "_WHO SAW THAT_?"

"I believe a better question," Itachi corrected dryly, "is, 'Who _didn't_ see that?'"

Naruto was so excited he was totally immune to the elder Uchiha's gentle admonition. "I wanna call that _Hibashira no Jutsu_!" he decided as he hopped out to join them.

"Are you okay?" Arashi promptly worriedly.

"Fine!" Naruto chirped as he jogged toward them. "That was _so_ badass!"

"How can you say that?" the elder blond asked faintly.

"Not the word I would use . . ." Itachi sighed. Beside him, Sasuke looked pitifully relieved.

"What is it with you two?" Naruto demanded. "It wasn't _dangerous_." Itachi and Arashi both looked at him flatly then, and Naruto seemed to realize he had used the wrong words. "Okay, my mistake. But in ninjutsu-speak, what _else_ could a giant fire twister mean except, 'Get the hell out of the way'? I mean, damn . . ."

Arashi did not know what to think about Naruto's complete lack of concern. While his son's response was ultimately exactly the sort of reaction he would have expected from Kushina and therefore nothing suspect in itself, Arashi would have imagined that at first Naruto would have—_should have_—acted far more like Sasuke, who was slightly traumatized by the event. And yet Naruto behaved as though collaboration techniques were old hat. On the other hand, if the boys could put together a collaboration technique with so little effort, they would definitely make good teammates. With special training, controlling something like that would be no big deal. Although startling and unusual, perhaps things were better that way, especially considering what Arashi had planned.

". . . Well," he decided finally, "no harm done this time, I suppose. But I think we should stop here."

"_Awwwww_!" Naruto whined.

"_Enough_. Don't you have a limit to the excitement you experience in a given day?"

"Yes," was the answer, "but I rarely ever meet it."

Another Kushina-esque response. Arashi blew out a frustrated breath. "Well _I_ have. We're _done_ for today. Naruto, I'll need to see you again tomorrow. This time first thing in the morning. Sandaime-sama's already aware of this, so you don't need to inform him. Sasuke-kun, you as well. Itachi, I'll expect you to attend as his instructor."

Naruto cocked his head. Sasuke frowned slightly. However, neither protested. "All right."

Itachi, always a good shinobi, did not appear to have any thoughts at all. His Hokage had told him to show up, so he would. "Hokage-sama."

Arashi nodded sharply. "You're all dismissed—I thank you for your time." He started to turn away, but at the last moment turned back. "Wait. Naruto, what technique did you use?"

His son's face was absolutely blank. "Huh?"

"Damn it, what technique did you use against Sasuke's fireball that created that tornado?"

"Oh! Uh . . . Great Breakthrough."

A technique that allowed for a variable chakra input, so it was not impossible for a Wind-oriented genin to learn it and learn it well. Using it in a combination technique would further improve its power without expending too much chakra. "Okay, thank you. That's all."

He turned away again and headed to the library. It was entirely possible that what had happened to Kushina meant they were all overcompensating when it came to Naruto, and that they needed to deal with him before he really messed things up. But there was one option Arashi had not yet explored, mainly because of how ludicrous he knew it was. Even so, with frog kata and apparent senjutsu training . . .

_If one eliminates the impossible . . . _

He had few theories to look up before supper. _Bedtime-story_ theories. And if there was any truth to them—any truth at all—then . . .

_She'll have been right,_ he concluded, _and that last thing she said will have come true. Naruto—the Naruto I've been taking care of for the past two months—isn't my son after all. He's someone completely different._

* * *

To be continued in . . . **Chapter 23**** – Team Misfit**

Sasuke glanced at Itachi, who was standing quietly beside him, then wondered, "Why . . . am I here?"

"_You_ are here because your brother and I don't want your training to go to waste. And your father has given permission for this because it will open more than one advancement opportunity for you. All of this experience will be on file, therefore it will help any future attempts you make for a command position within the MP, even if your shinobi rank never changes in that time."

"So . . . I'm being put on a team?"

* * *

**Answers To Questions You Didn't Even Know You Wanted To Ask:**

By the way, I did a little research on writing fight scenes and applied it this chapter. I know the bits between Naruto and Sasuke weren't very long at all, but did anyone notice a difference, and if so, was it/were they any good?

—

_**'****If you eliminate the impossible,'**_** Anxiety mused, **_**'whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth!'**_

Ripped from an episode of _Detective Conan_—that's where I first became familiar with it—but ultimately it originates from the Sherlock Holmes books; it's one of Shinichi's favorite Holmes-related quotes.

—

**"I think he lost his patience … But why was he hiding it? Surely he didn't think Sasuke was a pushover after the way he was talking in my office."**

Naruto wasn't hiding anything. The full explanation is in an upcoming chapter, though some may have guessed the reason already.

—

_**Nonstandard, Juuken, Gouken, academy basic, Gouken, nonstandard …**_** ; ****" … academy level one … academy level two, Gouken modification … Juuken modification … "**

_Juuken_ is the Hyuugas' Gentle Fist taijutsu style; _Gouken_ is the Strong Fist taijutsu style used by Gai and Lee.

To reduce any confusion, I'll add that Arashi and Itachi are indeed making note of the same things, but where Itachi is identifying each move specifically according to its parent style or level (e.g. "Juuken modification" or "academy level two"), Arashi is identifying them in a general sense (i.e. Juuken/Gouken "nonstandard" moves or "academy basic" level one/two/three moves).

—

**"Senjutsu involves blending the natural energy of the world alongside the physical and spiritual energy we use every day … "**

_Senjutsu_ are Sage Techniques. Primarily, the term seems to encompass basic ninjutsu that are simply enhanced by natural energy. Off the top of my head, I can't think of any specific technique that's been named that can't be utilized in a comparatively weaker form outside of Sage Mode.

When I polled about including Sage Mode, the overwhelming response was **YES**; however, there were a couple of people who voted no because they didn't know what Sage Mode was and didn't want it spoiled. I do apologize to those people—I included it not just because of the votes but because I had a couple of ideas to work with, and I hope that what I reveal is not too terrible a giveaway. If it helps, I'm not planning to explore the circumstances surrounding Sage Mode in canon, just discuss the mechanics as I did this chapter, and presumably Naruto's Sage Mode techniques later. In the case of the latter, I don't find that they're hugely amazing and novel—nor do many others—so I don't think revealing them is going to be as much of a killjoy as such spoilers frequently can be. If you consider the above to be a spoiler anyway, I apologize (again).

—

**" … My capacity is above-average and my chakra control is perfect … I do frequently use those kata in battle because as a little-known style it makes me far harder to predict, but I can't really call myself a true sage."**

That whole section is me attempting to cover several bases at once.

First of all, we see the Fourth do some awesome things in canon—things other people can't do at all or can only do as part of a group or whatever—so it makes sense to me that he may have had at least perfect chakra control. Considering the amount of chakra he was able to produce not only to summon Gamabunta but to move and seal the kyuubi (among other things), both of which are physically immense and thus require more chakra to be used in relation to them, I further deduce that he has an unusually large chakra capacity compared to most other ninja. However, 'most other ninja' are obviously not Uzumaki, and since Naruto was noted specifically for inheriting his ninjutsu style from his mother—which I assume means at least his surprise tactics and the large chakra capacity needed to employ them, if not also his poor chakra control—then I figure the Fourth's chakra reserves are large but not gargantuan.

Second, it's been brought up in various circles that the Fourth's overcoat is proof of senjutsu training, and there are a couple of vague statements made by certain characters about Naruto "surpassing his predecessors" or "reminding [whoever] of those two," who are never named but are implied as being Jiraiya and the Fourth. That said, it has still never been inarguably stated in canon that the Fourth went through Sage training. Proponents of this theory point at the coat and the vague comments, opponents snort and point out the student-teacher thing and the fact that the Fourth is never indicated to have been using senjutsu in the fight against the kyuubi, where it would arguably have been the most useful. There are a couple of reasons I can think of for the vague statements to have been misinterpreted and the similarities to be purely coincidental, but I'm not going to say no straight out of the gate. That's why I'm presenting the idea of incomplete senjutsu training. Make of it what you will.

—

**"**_**Suiton: Hahonryuu**_**!"**

Water Release: Tearing Torrent. This was Yamato's half of the collaboration technique he and Naruto used against Kakuzu.

—

**"**_**Fuuton: Reppuushou**_**!"**

Wind Release: Gale Palm. This was a technique used by kiddie-Nagato against a Jiraiya shadow clone.

—

**"**_**Chouryuu Shougeki no Jutsu**_**!"**

Tidal Current Impact Technique. This one I made up, so if the word arrangement is wrong I apologize.

And yes, it is possible for one person to create a collaboration technique; in the third data book, the technique Yamato and Naruto used against Kakuzu (_Gufuu Suika no Jutsu_—Typhoon Water Vortex Technique) is explicitly noted as being something one person in control of multiple elements could create on his own. I am assuming that would also extend to other collaboration techniques in the event that adequate elemental control is present. Why didn't I have Arashi use that technique, then? Because I wanted a different effect.

—

**"I wanna call that **_**Hibashira no Jutsu**_**!"**

Pillar of Fire/Blazing Column Technique. Also one I made up. I was going for a different, cooler-sounding name, but I found this one and figured it was cool enough; I'm pretty easy to please. I imagine that although this technique is similar in appearance to what Kakuzu was able to create, this one is generally skinnier, weaker, and more mobile.

—

**"Oh! Uh . . . Great Breakthrough."**

Also known as _Fuuton: Daitoppa_. This is an unnamed-at-the-time technique Orochimaru used against Sasuke in the Forest of Death during the chuunin exams. The amount of chakra put into it is generally what determines how dangerous it is.

I didn't use the Japanese name because the technique wasn't being enacted at the time (i.e., the Japanese name is used in a battle situation, the English name is used in most other situations). I don't know if I'm going to keep that arrangement—it seems like it might be too confusing. Let me know what you all think.

—

It's time to play a quick game of _Draw Your Own Conclusion_! Arashi is going to need lots of help with his studies. If you review, you will not be available to be conscripted into his research efforts. Draw your own conclusion.

~RN (LS)


	23. Team Misfit

**Author's Notes:** This chapter delay is brought to you in part by Dell: "Making internal wiring so short your computer eventually kills itself." Fortunately, I have an in with a tech dude, and it only cost me sixty bucks and the wire to my touch-sensitive media shortcuts to get things back in order. Also, I can't close my laptop anymore. Ever. Oh well. My writing is more important. Other delays include getting nowhere on chapter twenty-four (for the past three months there have been five paragraphs, and that's still about how many there are right now), as well as a strangely powerful desire to write a particular _Dissidia_ fanfic. But since it's been months and I'm going away for a week, I thought it was about time I get my ass in gear and post.

Anyway, I'm actually happy with this chapter! I haven't been recently, and it probably seemed like I was fishing for compliments the last few chapters, but I was just trying to encourage commentary on where I might have gone wrong. But like I said, I'm actually liking this chapter! Not that you shouldn't comment if you think something's off, but I thought I should mention my happiness anyway.

**Word Count:** 7479 (**Total:** 141590)

**Date Submitted:** 9/13/12

* * *

**Chapter 23**** – Team Misfit**

* * *

"_Ehhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh_?!" two voices protested simultaneously.

"I thought you'd be a little more excited, Naruto," his father sighed. He then scowled over at Obito. "And _you_ have no right whatsoever to make that noise. I demoted you the other month for acting like an idiot, remember? The paperwork went through weeks ago, but I _generously_ allowed you to continue with your preferred duties as an ANBU captain. You're _quite_ lucky I didn't send you straight off to the academy to pull double-rotation on the guest lectures for the _history of_ _shinobi law_."

Naruto blinked at that, aware it was a pretty harsh punishment. Even _Iruka_ had barely been able to stand that topic; he had interspersed it with lots of outdoor breaks that, from his reaction when he dismissed the students, obviously had not been just for their sakes. Or at least that was what Naruto remembered the few times he had been awake to see it.

Obito paled and bowed low. "I mean, _thank you_, Hokage-sama. You're _most_ kind to this undeserving one."

"What about me?" Kakashi dared to ask, his tone stunningly brazen.

"You're no better," the Fourth replied. "I just haven't found an official reason to demote you yet."

". . . Hokage-sama?"

The elder blond turned, expression eerily pleasant. "Yes, Sasuke-kun?"

Sasuke glanced at Itachi, who was standing quietly beside him, then wondered, "Why . . . am I here?"

"_You_ are here because your brother and I don't want your training to go to waste. And your father has given permission for this because it will open more than one advancement opportunity for you. All of this experience will be on file, therefore it will help any future attempts you make for a command position within the MP, even if your shinobi rank never changes."

"So . . . I'm being put on a team?"

"You and Naruto are the only academy graduates of your year who didn't become part of a genin team. As Itachi noted yesterday, this was useful at the time as it allowed teams to be constructed without leftovers, but these days it's left the two of you in ranking limbo; neither of you can hope to become chuunin until you work as a team and get some missions under your belts. Naruto's earlier lackluster efforts in his private training are currently not so lackluster, and you have recently completed special training. So you'll team with each other as well as Kakashi and Obito, who will offer you new training methods and topics—this will help your adaptability, of course—and be your commanders during assignments. At some point, should they prove their maturity, they may return to their previous duties, in which case you'll be added to any of the existing teams, regardless of age or year of graduation, who may have lost one of their number for some reason."

Sasuke nodded. "I understand. Thank you."

The Fourth nodded in turn. "Of course, for now you'll be stuck with D-rank missions—"

"_Bleeeehhhhhh_."

"_Naruto_ . . . —but as long as you prove your capability, which I'm sure you will, I wouldn't mind giving you the _occasional_ C-rank."

"_YES_!" Naruto yelled, pumping both fists into the air.

"_OCCASIONAL_," his father reminded him loudly.

Obito and Kakashi tilted their heads, baffled. "Really?" The former added, "You'd actually . . . _let_ Naruto do a C-rank assignment?"

"Not for a while yet, and definitely not if you two don't first give the go-ahead," was the response. "But I don't see why not. Naruto _has_ had the least structured training of the four of you, but Sandaime-sama assures me that he's made a great deal of progress and is fit for any D-rank mission. What he lacks compared to Sasuke will be minor, and you'll be able to fill in the holes while you teach him new things. When you feel he's ready for more I'll give him a little test and then you can have an easy, simple C-rank. We'll go from there."

Naruto at last had a thought beyond _finally_ running missions again. He frowned. "Wait, why do we need _two_ sensei?"

"Because genin teams consist of four-man cells," his father replied. "Technically, as a result of your total lack of practical experience, neither you nor Sasuke are suitable to be attached to any genin team. Seeing as we're in peacetime right now that probably isn't as much of an issue, but either of you would still be deadweight that your jounin-sensei would have a hard time making up for while not neglecting the other two; there's only so much one can get from sparring with the same opponent. And for the moment there are no single genin here who are in need of teammates, either, or that might have worked out. So you get two sensei—that's three potential opponents, two of which are inarguably superior to you rather than just one. It'll be more practice than many of your peers will get under the current political conditions."

Naruto squinted, suspicious. "You aren't just trying to _protect_ us, are you?"

"It had crossed my mind, yes," the Fourth confirmed patiently. "Has it occurred to you how great a haul the two of you are?" Naruto blinked and glanced over at Sasuke. "Obviously, you're my son—your value is clear to anyone with even the most vague understanding of ninja. But Sasuke happens to be a son of the head of the Uchiha clan, and even if one were to ignore his own current skills, between the reputations of his parents and his brother he has both potential for strong abilities as well as a use for the purposes of ransom. No matter how interested they are, the other great hidden villages probably wouldn't be desperate enough to abduct either of you for fear of angering Konoha and disrupting the peace, but any of the smaller villages are frequently out to strengthen themselves by any means necessary, and they'd likely be willing to take the risk of being annihilated to get their hands on pedigrees like yours. They choose to sit quietly at our heels for now, but there's always the possibility they'll bite if they think we aren't looking. That," he added absently as he looked at his desktop and grabbed a brush, "is why the Mizukage is conferring with the Raikage on transferring the governorship of Amegakure. The distance is bad enough to govern Taki—it's too much trouble to supervise Ame too. I'd like to think that the threat of a supervisor physically nearer than Water Country will quiet all of those Rain assassins . . ."

"And the cloaked individuals?" Itachi asked. The brothers' father must have said something to him about them, because Naruto was pretty sure _his_ father had not.

The Fourth frowned faintly, but if he had an issue with Itachi's knowledge he said nothing. "I have reason to believe they're not after Naruto except as a means of attaining their actual goal. If he stays on the move it will be slightly harder to predict his location and find him, although D-rank assignment won't take him too far for too long. It'll still be a good way to see without exposing him to danger too far from home exactly how interested they are and what they're willing to do to get him." He looked at Sasuke. "Naruto will have one of my Hiraishin tags on him in case he's targeted. Sasuke-kun, you are not to engage those clerics at any time."

Sasuke started, distressed. "But Naruto-sama is—"

"—my son," the Fourth interrupted gently, "and therefore my responsibility. You must remember your own position—your safety and health are no less important for being the second son of a clan head. Because we don't know enough about these people, your life could be seriously endangered for just being in close physical proximity to Naruto. We need more information on them, and in the event that we discover their only strength is in numbers, then I will speak with your father about allowing you to place yourself in harm's way for the sake of experience. But until then you _will_ avoid battle with these individuals except to defend yourself, and allow Kakashi and Obito to act offensively. Is that understood?"

Sasuke lowered his head and looked away. Naruto nudged him, then grinned. "It's no secret I'm tasty bait. So don't worry—it's under control. I'll kick ass before Dad has to show up anyway."

"You will _not_ pick fights with them, Naruto," the Fourth commanded firmly.

Naruto made a face. "Why would I want to?"

"You say that now, while you're calm," was the response. "But you have your mother's fuse, which may as well have not existed for all the length it had to it. You are _not_ in a position to be curing the world's injustices. You and Sasuke-kun will provide cover for one another if you're attacked by these clerics—establish a position and let Kakashi and Obito move around you—but knowing that you're already a target is _not_ permission to run around the battlefield looking for trouble."

Naruto sighed loudly. "Jeez—"

"_Don't_ roll your eyes at me—this is _serious_. You should remember that I'm letting you do this against my better judgment, Naruto. If Sandaime-sama weren't vouching as confidently as he is for your current qualification and your efforts to continue improving yourself, you wouldn't be setting foot _one_ outside those gates without a full complement of ANBU at the _very_ least."

Naruto opened his mouth to make some scathing comment about overprotective tendencies, but his father turned his head sharply to the right, eyes locked with Naruto's, and the icy stare was accompanied by an oppressive sense of danger. It was definitely not killing intent, but it was nothing to be shrugged off, either. The warning was clear, and Naruto reevaluated what he had intended to say. Out of curiosity he traced it and the feelings behind it, and while much of both was basically the Uzumaki Naruto don't-boss-me-around-I-can-take-care-of-myself-damn-it self-confidence, he was able to link a portion of rebellious resentment to his counterpart—the idea that only at _that_ point was his father showing concern for his general wellbeing. So he pushed all of it down, permitting an annoyed scowl to remain to ease the pressure of not getting the chance to mouth off, and muttered with as little anger as possible, "Fine. I'll try to remember. Sasuke can hit me or something if I get stupid."

The warning expression went away, as did the sense of danger. When his father spoke, his voice was calm and gave no indication of his previous irritation. "Thank you. Come here." Naruto approached obediently as his father stood up. "Turn around and unzip your jacket a little." That was somewhat more suspicious, but again Naruto obeyed. He felt his father pull the rear of the collar of his jacket away from his body, then the ball of a warm hand settled over his seventh cervical vertebra and the area around it was cupped lightly. Nothing else happened for a few seconds, and Naruto was about to ask what he was doing when _something_ scuttled down his back. It felt like either a large spider or a centipede—something big and with a lot of legs.

Startled and grossed out, Naruto jumped away from the Fourth and whirled around, his hands going to his back as he searched for the source of the fading crawling sensation. If it had been something that would get into his pants, he was going to beat the shit out of the elder blond, Hokage or not. "F-F-F— . . ." He could not even get the word out because of the creepiness. "_What the hell was that_?!" Yeah, Naruto was definitely going to beat the shit out of him, since the sensation had caused the younger blond's voice to rise several humiliating notches.

"It was one of my Hiraishin seals," his father explained, entirely unapologetic. "It will monitor your chakra use, and in the event that you use large quantities rapidly—as you would in a fight—it will activate and alert me and I will provide backup."

"But I can _feel it_!"

"Only because it's moving across your skin. Once it stops you won't know it's there."

Fine. "What if I'm training?"

"Kakashi and Obito will each have one of my special kunai. They'll be a failsafe. Also, I'll know your team schedule, so I'll know when and how much you'll be training as a team and will note but not respond to summons during those times. If you're attacked during training, one or both will use their kunai to call me, and since they don't use those kunai as a rule I'll know the situation is serious. _Don't_ spar spontaneously—not unless Kakashi sends word to me through one of his dogs first. Even simple taijutsu practice can escalate very quickly, so just don't. If it's not a training day then I'll assume you've been ambushed and Kakashi and Obito aren't around."

_Jeez, I almost need permission to even take a piss,_ Naruto sighed to his tenant.

_Considering your general misbehavior to this point, with your refusal to stay within the village walls and your efforts to evade your ANBU guardians,_ the kyuubi pointed out, _this is not an unreasonable arrangement. In fact, it seems quite generous to me. Your counterpart's past appears to consist primarily of little to no training, and your sire is relying largely on his predecessor for assurance that your performance yesterday is the rule rather than the exception. You would do well to appreciate even this measure of freedom when you would otherwise be confined indefinitely within the village._

"Hokage-sama," Itachi said suddenly.

The Fourth looked over at him, and Naruto watched them engage in some kind of silent, experienced-ninja eye-contact discussion. "If you'd like," the elder blond finally decided.

"I think it would cover nearly all eventualities."

"Very well. Sasuke-kun, here. I'll place a seal on you also, under the same conditions."

"Why did it have to be on my back?" Naruto whined as Sasuke slowly approached and pulled his shirt over his head. "Why not my arm or my leg?"

"First of all, your arms and legs could be cut off at any time for any reason, and I'd rather not encourage that. Second, any paper seal intended to suppress or prevent the motion of chakra is always placed directly between the shoulder blades, where it's difficult to remove without assistance from another person," his father explained as he applied a seal to the younger Uchiha. Sasuke stiffened and shuddered as the seal moved into place, which assured Naruto that it was not merely him being overly sensitive. "In either case, rather than force the chakra back inside the body, which can cause problems for both sealer and sealed, paper seals work by simply cutting off the outward flow of chakra—they restrict it so no more is produced than what's needed to keep the body comfortable. Because of that, the flow is halted starting from the seal itself, which means your back will be the first place that will stop circulating any chakra to and from the surface of your body. It will weaken you, which is why people usually get weak-kneed or pass out entirely, as it's a somatic panic reflex, but only temporarily—your body will adjust to the difference once it realizes your chakra is being contained rather than drained. If you all end up caught off guard and the paper seals are applied, the lack of support from your chakra to my seal will also alert me, and on your back it'll become aware of such a deficiency that much sooner."

Naruto squinted. ". . . Uh . . . I get the arms-and-legs-cut-off part, but . . ."

"It just works, okay?" Obito put in. "Sensei has it covered. Jeez, when did you get to be such a moron?"

Naruto stuck his tongue out at the same time Kakashi snorted, "Oh, like you knew that at his age."

"_All right_," the Fourth interrupted loudly. "As much as I appreciate the brotherly nitpicking, there's a time and a place, and this is neither." He looked at Naruto and Sasuke, then Kakashi and Obito. "From now on you four are a team. I'm counting on you all to watch out for each other. Naruto, Kakashi and Obito outrank you now, and I mean that in the martial sense as opposed to the social sense. So if there's a disciplinary problem on a mission, it's highly likely I'll take their side."

Naruto folded his arms and turned away, irritated and stung, the lash of betrayal burning quite abruptly in his throat. He was being portrayed as guilty until proven innocent, just like he always had been as a child.

_You can't get away from it, can you?_ Sarcasm giggled. _You thought your family would understand, and you tried __**so hard**__ to fit in, but they can't put up with you either! You'll __**never**__ belong!_

_Shut up!_ he hissed.

The worst thing was that since Naruto had finally been made aware of his counterpart, he had automatically become more sensitive to the other's emotions. To a point that was expected, in the same way that one would look at a cloud and not see the rabbit in it until someone else pointed out the ears and cottontail, and thus he had to struggle more to control those emotions which had suddenly gained strength. So far, but nevertheless with a few slips, Naruto had managed to maintain a level of separation between himself and his counterpart, using logic and experience and a measure of implied superiority to correct or ignore his younger self's complaints. But right then he felt he had a far too intimate grasp of the vague, distant frustration his counterpart was generating.

His father _always_ took someone else's side—_always_ assumed the problem would lie with Naruto. No one else was _ever_ at fault . . .

_He said it was 'highly likely,' not 'for sure,'_ Naruto noted carefully, fighting to regain a sense of balance. _This isn't . . . That doesn't mean I'm going to be in trouble every time something goes wrong._

_Your persisting naïveté is delicious,_ Sarcasm purred. _They might say it to make you go away, you know, but no one will ever __**really**__ love you, idiot. You are the kyuubi jinchuuriki. You are the scapegoat. Even your own parents left you! And now you've stolen this family to make up for that, but you're still ruining things! You are __**unlovable**__._

Naruto tried to shuck off the pointless anger he remembered from so long ago. He had been so sure he had dismissed the doubts, but perhaps with his current situation he was just finding himself with more questions and no direction than answers and a path to explore. _You're lying. You're __**lying**__, damn you! You don't know any more about my real parents than I do! You don't know jack about what they were like! You don't know that they left me! I'm not going to listen to your __**bullshit**__!_

_But this is __**how he is**__!_ Sarcasm laughed. _Don't you see? If this is a parallel world, wouldn't your father here at least __**share**__ some traits with your father there even if they weren't __**identical**__?_

_**Some**__!_ Naruto acknowledged. _Nothing says this is one of them!_

_Nothing says it isn't . . ._

Naruto glared at the wall, peripherally relieved the kyuubi was keeping its mouth shut when it normally felt a need to add its two coins. He could sense it, though, its presence stronger than usual, and maybe that was why the old fox had nothing to say. Even so, belligerence reared its ugly head. _Aren't you going to contribute like usual?_ he sneered. _I'm almost missing your dulcet tones._

_Get control of yourself,_ was the cool response. _That is the one and only warning I will give you. To date, I have agreed to work with you for the sake of mutual safety and survival, but we are not friends. If you dare provide me with an opening, I will absolutely take advantage of it, and you won't be around to regret your stupidity._

That was enough to instantly get Naruto's attention, but he was unsure what the fox meant. Obviously, it was threatening to escape the seal and take over his body, but it could not do that without his permission or some external seal-destroying technique. There had been very few times he had ever been angry enough to give the kyuubi room to dig its claws into him, and none of those had ever occurred when he was a child. And since what he was feeling at the moment was similar to his childhood, he did not see where he had any reason to worry.

". . . Naruto . . . _Naruto_ . . .?"

He frowned at his father and asked sharply, "_What_?"

"What are you doing?" was the cautious query.

"What do you mean?" he snapped. At that point he became aware of how much his right arm hurt. It felt as though it was on fire. Naruto looked down at it and discovered that his arm, from fingertips to shoulder, was clad in an unpleasantly familiar red chakra cloak. ". . . What the hell . . .?"

That was . . . not good. At all. Naruto was not exactly concerned about the cloak's presence, insofar as one arm was not nearly as bad as his whole body, but he recognized immediately that the kyuubi was right—he needed to get control of himself. Because for the cloak to have appeared specifically on his right arm . . . Well, he was right-handed, so that was the hand he normally attacked with. He had not consciously thought it, but he obviously wanted to _hurt_ something. And that made an unfortunate amount of sense, between his frustration about being picked on and his counterpart's too-similar feelings of distress, but his own mind had never weakened to the point that the kyuubi's chakra had manifested in such a way. Not over _that_. _Never_.

_What is this?_ he demanded of the fox.

_I told you some time ago that there was a reason I was sealed in __**you**__ rather than another,_ Kyuubi snorted. _That hardly means that all versions of you are automatically suitable vessels._

_Yeah, but what the hell does that __**mean**__, damn it?_

The fox sighed heavily. _Perhaps it means that this body is weak. Or perhaps it means your seal has become inadequate. Perhaps it means both._

_How could my seal have become inadequate?_ Naruto wondered, mostly to himself. In any case, there was no denying that he had a problem, and that he probably was not going to get rid of it if he stuck around with the one responsible for the situation. He frowned anew and turned toward the door.

"Naruto—" the Fourth started.

"I'm outta here," Naruto interrupted. "I need some space." At first, since there was no protest, he thought he had gotten away and could do his own thing.

Of course not.

"What the hell have you been fucking around with?"

Obito.

Naruto scowled at him. "Leave me alone."

"Ha ha, you're funny," was the very not amused-sounding response. "Care to try again?"

_You need an ally, you fool,_ Kyuubi reminded him impatiently. _Did I not also say __**that**__ before? If you intend to take offense at every little misstep your sire makes and see him as an enemy, you need to have someone else on your side who, unlike you, knows this world. The Uchiha boy you so admire is not an adequate option here—he has neither the rank nor the experience to reliably fill that position. This Uchiha, as much as I loathe the idea of relying on any Uchiha for any assistance at all, is an ANBU captain._

An ANBU captain was pretty much one step down from the council in terms of general village knowledge, and otherwise ANBU just plain _heard things_, too. Obito, Naruto had to admit, would be a great ally in the event that his father refused to share information, which had already happened at least once.

He sighed. "Look, does the restroom on this floor have a full-length mirror like it's supposed to?"

Obito tilted his head, but said, "Yeah . . ."

In the restroom, Naruto examined the cloak from all angles. It showed nothing he did not already know, of course, but looking seemed like the right thing to do. He sighed again. ". . . Crap . . ."

"What is that?"

"It's the kyuubi's chakra," Naruto replied. He then lifted his gaze to Obito's reflection. "You know about the kyuubi, right?" His father obviously knew something about it, seeing as the elder blond apparently kept some sort of miniaturized version as a pet—Naruto had definitely not missed _that_ revelation the previous afternoon, even though he had not seen it since—but that did not necessarily extend to everyone else.

Obito rolled his eyes. "_Yes_, I know about the kyuubi, dumbass. I'm ANBU—I _have_ to know. It's only Konoha's greatest threat and guardian."

Naruto blinked. "Guardian?"

Obito snorted. "Duh. All bijuu are mixed blessings."

Okay . . .

"But what are _you_ doing with the kyuubi's chakra? It doesn't just pass that stuff around, even to its aigo."

"Aigo?" Naruto echoed, somewhat annoyed that he was already having to ask so many questions. On the other hand, it just went to show exactly how much he had been farting around for the past two months and change, snuggling into his little fantasy of having a family. Stupid. Although, admittedly, there was not much else he _could_ have done, seeing as he had been in such piss-poor condition until recently. Well, he _could_ have gone to the library. But . . . But . . . _reading_ . . . Reading was ick. He would probably have to sit down with a big stack of heavy, dusty books eventually, but he had certainly not exhausted all his alternate options; _surely_ there were better ways to get at least _some_ of the information he needed.

Which merely brought him back to the fact that he really had been farting around, playing a game of house with people who were actually_ complete strangers_.

Obito squinted a dark eye and reached into the pocket of his jacket. He pulled out a box of pocky—melon-flavored, that time—that had been opened at the wrong end and tapped on the box similar to the way Naruto had once seen Asuma tap on a cigarette pack. Sure enough, a stick of pocky popped out not unlike the cigarette had, and Obito took it in his teeth as he tucked the box away. Smooth. Naruto vaguely wondered if he had used any chakra to achieve that effect or if the flavoring had warmed and melted enough to stick to itself. "Aigo are the intermediaries between the bijuu and the humans. They protect the world from the bijuu and protect the bijuu from the world. To that end they're allowed to do pretty much anything to anyone—whatever is necessary to keep the peace."

Naruto wrinkled his nose at his own reflection. "Sounds kind of like a jinchuuriki."

Obito frowned and sucked on the pocky stick. "It was agreed a long time ago that creating a jinchuuriki is cruel—that's why aigo replaced them."

Naruto blinked again. "What's the difference, then?"

"When a new aigo is required, potential aigo are brought to a bijuu and the bijuu gives each one a sample of its chakra. That usually happens a couple of times to gather a suitable pool of potential aigo. The ones who don't weaken, pass out, or die become part of a handful of people from whom the bijuu chooses based on some quality only it knows. Whoever it picks becomes its aigo until his or her death."

Naruto withheld a snort of derision. He saw no reason for anyone to be proud that the aigo did not have the bijuu sealed in them—it seemed an aigo was merely a jinchuuriki with a cooperative bijuu, which led to there being no need to seal the bijuu into anyone or anything. That was it. Obviously nobody understood what was truly 'cruel' about having any connection at all to one of the bijuu—being stared at, feared, hated . . . all for merely having access to a sort of power virtually no one else understood, let alone were able to use. And that was not counting the people who thought the person _was_ the bijuu.

"What are you doing with the kyuubi's chakra?" Obito pressed. "Even as the fox's aigo, you're not allowed possession of its chakra outside of training or battle situations."

So he was a jinchuuriki wherever he went, then. Naruto glared at his right arm and willed the chakra sleeve to go away. "I don't know. But it's no big deal."

"Seems like it is, if you didn't notice that you lost control over it," was the response.

Naruto snorted as the chakra dissipated. He flexed his hand and arm. The skin was red and tight, as though he had a sunburn. The body he was in definitely was not used to prolonged contact with the kyuubi's chakra; that was very bad, to have such a nasty response to just the first stage of the cloak. "Don't tell me I lost control. You don't know what a loss of control actually looks like."

"And you do?"

"Yeah," Naruto confirmed calmly, and looked again at Obito's reflection. "Yeah, I do."

One of Obito's black eyebrows went up, and he used his tongue and teeth to play with the pocky stick so that it bobbed. "Uh-huh. Well, come on—"

"I'm not going back there."

"I wasn't even going to suggest it, you little preemptive prick. Listen, don't pretend you know what I'm thinking, and I won't pretend I know what you're thinking. Deal?"

"Fine."

"Shit, you're acting like my uncle Jun. Quit it with that funereal countenance—it's fucking annoying."

"Am I supposed to be happy that you're nagging me?" Naruto snapped as he turned around.

Obito bent over sharply to invade his space and look him in the eye. "Yeah, you absolutely are. Because it means I fucking care, ingrate."

That did a lot to shake Naruto out of his bad mood for the moment. That was precisely how he had become so attached to Iruka—because his beloved academy teacher had nagged him over his bad behavior, and that was the sort of thing he had heard his peers complain about their parents always doing with them. The realization had been a comfort. A sign that someone _cared_. He blew out a long breath and recent stresses, and most of his bad childhood memories plus his counterpart's fussing went with them for the moment.

"Now let's go," Obito said as he turned toward the door. "I got the cure for what ails ya."

"You don't even know what's bothering me," Naruto pointed out, even though he was following.

Obito chuckled. "Doesn't matter. You can tell me on the way. In any case, I got the cure for what ails ya."

They never returned to the Fourth's office, just left the administration building entirely. Reluctantly, for he was not used to sharing such private thoughts but figured he was unlikely to get away with avoiding the topic for long, Naruto carefully explained how he had been feeling. Not all of it, obviously, but he figured it was safe enough to discuss his counterpart's emotions.

Obito nodded absently. "That was a common complaint of yours before you were injured," he said. "I'm not trying to defend Sensei, but I do want you to understand one thing: Sensei may not always be the most awesome dad ever, but you haven't always been the best son ever. That doesn't excuse either of you—it's the whole pot-and-kettle thing, you know? Sensei worries about you because you do stupid shit on an extremely frequent basis, so he cracks down on you sporadically, especially in new situations like this. What he said in his office . . . I don't think he necessarily meant it the way you interpreted it, but hell, maybe he did. Sensei can overreact at times. Sometimes it's a good overreaction, and those are always hilarious, but sometimes it's a bad overreaction and it's like, 'Damn, who pissed in your oatmeal?'"

"But everybody's like that," Naruto argued.

Obito shook his head. "Whichever it is, Sensei goes overboard. It's like . . ." He frowned thoughtfully. "It's like he's trying to live for more than one person or something. He's just . . . _intense_. And it exhausts him, but it's like he can't help it for some reason. I don't know how many times Rin's told him to cool off. He promises he will, and he does for a while, but then it's business as usual. You gotta watch out for him, Naruto. He doesn't think about himself enough—it's always everyone else. He's gonna kill himself one day."

Naruto frowned. That sounded a little too familiar. Sakura had been the first to tell him to take it easy—and then Tsunade, when Sakura had complained to her that he was not listening—but he was aware his switches were generally stuck in the 'on' position. It could be hard for him to wind down unless he was physically or mentally exhausted, at which times he collapsed and slept for ten or twelve hours at a stretch. It had never done him harm that he could see, and Kakashi had even once told him it was okay as long as he directed it properly, but his medical team appeared to consider it unhealthy. Still, nobody treaded on eggshells around _him_. ". . . So I'm supposed to suck up for the sake of his delicate psychology?"

"No," Obito replied. "That won't do any good. You could be the perfect son and he'd still be that way. I'm just telling you to remember that. This is probably going to sound completely nuts, but in a way you should be glad he acts like that with you—it means he thinks you're mature enough to handle it. If you watch, he doesn't act like that with Akiko or the girls because he can't. It'd scare 'em. When I was a punk—your age, actually—he didn't act like that with me or Kakashi or Rin. But I remember there were times when Jiraiya-sama would notice something about him and convince him to dismiss us for the day, then get some sake and take him someplace quiet to try to settle him down. This was before he was Hokage, too, so it's not like the extra responsibility has triggered it. I can't even say the extra responsibility has made it worse. As far as I can tell, he's always been exactly that way.

"Sensei doesn't like to talk about it, whatever it is, and he tries to hold it in. But with some of us he feels he can relax a little—he trusts us to not freak out or report him or anything—so if he's in a bad mood we get the brunt of it. I'm not saying it's fair of him to dump on you, but if you can . . . I dunno . . . recognize those moments and not make things worse by snapping at him—'cause that'll just make him all the more anxious, that you don't appreciate the potential danger you're in or whatever—that'll help. But you can't always just smile and nod, either, 'cause then he thinks you're patronizing him—"

"This is beginning to sound like paranoia," Naruto interjected.

Obito hesitated, thought about it, then said, "Yeah. To some degree, I'm sure. He's just . . . He gets fucking _attached_, Naruto. I don't know if you can understand that. I know I can't, and these days I don't try. He clutches at everyone like he's afraid we're going to disappear. He was like that long before the thing with your mom, so I can't imagine where it comes from . . ." He shook his head. "I dunno. It just bothers me. If he bitches at me, sometimes I cringe from him and sometimes I argue with him . . . You just have to do what feels right, okay? The important part is to keep your cool, like I said. Don't feed off his anxiety and reflect it at him—it only compounds the problem. Because then you get pissed and your whole day is ruined, while he thinks he's justified but doesn't feel good about getting his way because you're mad, which worries him, and everything starts over. In medicine they call it 'positive feedback' because the condition worsens the symptoms, which worsens the condition, which worsens the symptoms, and so on into eternity. Rin reminds me and Kakashi about it all the time."

Naruto _did_ understand the attachment. That was exactly the reason why he threw himself into the line of fire so much—because he could take far more damage than those who were important to him, and he was desperate to not lose anyone. He tilted his head. ". . . Was Dad an orphan?"

"No. His dad did die when he was eleven or something, I think, but his mom was sick all his life and while she didn't go out a lot, she lived until he was almost twenty-three." Obito frowned slightly. "Maybe that was what did it, though . . . I mean, watching her die by inches . . .?"

They turned through a small gate, Obito leading the way without seeming to be aware of where he was, and Naruto took in the traditional residence with curiosity. There were three other apparent residences and a handful of storage buildings, but nothing else he could see from that angle. He had definitely never been there before. "Is this some clan's grounds?"

"Huh? Uh, yeah." Obito smiled and laced his fingers behind his head. "Never been a big clan, but always been a strong one. The numbers are really down and it may just die out if the heir doesn't get his ass in gear and get married and have brats, but sometimes the best way to close down a family line is to be the most badass example of the clan's power."

"What clan?" Naruto pressed.

"Come inside," Obito said with a grin, and slid open the front door. He sucked in a big breath, then sang at the top of his lungs a drinking song that Jiraiya had once, for some reason, forced Naruto to learn years ago. After a few seconds, a familiar platinum-haired man appeared at the far end of the vestibule, one oven-mitted hand holding a baking sheet that was clearly fresh out of the oven while the other held a spatula. Obito abruptly stopped singing and greeted at a normal volume, "Hey, Daddy."

Naruto blinked. ". . . Daddy . . .?"

"Kakashi's dad let me move in after I got fed up with the clan's whining and moaning about how much of an embarrassment I was and let them kick me out of the clan grounds," Obito explained easily. "He's my dad now. I told you before."

Right. Not long after he had awakened from being knocked unconscious. Why, of _course_ Naruto would be able to instantaneously recall information from around that time period.

Hatake Sakumo looked at Obito, one pale eyebrow raised, then down at Naruto. He smiled warmly. "Hello, Naruto-kun."

"Hi," Naruto answered awkwardly, taking a long look at the father of his jounin-sensei since he had not seen the man for a while. They really were fascinatingly similar, barring the frilly pink apron Sakumo was wearing. Naruto was unsure he would ever catch Kakashi in one like that outside a joke or a mission.

"Please come in and make yourself at home. Obito, a message came while you were gone. I put it in your room. If you decide to burn it, take it outside so my rugs aren't in danger again."

Obito made a face as he toed his sandals off and stepped up onto the wood floor. "You're still wearing that raggedy old woman's apron? Why don't you ever wear the one Kakashi and I had _specially made_ for you? That one's much more manly and doesn't have all those weird ruffles around the outside."

Sakumo looked at him flatly. "First of all, this one was my wife's and there's more than a little nostalgia in its threads. Second, the one _you_ two geniuses got me to replace it says, 'Lick my beef stick.'" He pointed his spatula at his adopted son. "Don't think I didn't figure that one out as soon as I saw it." He turned away and headed along the hall. "This way, Naruto-kun."

Obito acted properly affronted and cried in dismay as he followed, "What do you _mean_, you figured it out? Surely your eyes haven't become so bad yet that you missed the beautifully hand-embroidered wiener-on-a-fork that was there too!"

Sakumo turned sharply, causing Obito to come to a sudden stop, and Naruto noticed he was just out of the elder man's spatula swipe range. The Hatake patriarch's expression, if it were possible, flattened even more. All he said was, "I was your age once."

Obito huffed melodramatically and, with Sakumo's eyes following him, wandered into a room to the left. Naruto trailed the latter into a kitchen on the right and settled at a little table against the near wall. Sakumo grabbed a big cookie from a nearby plate, which he offered to Naruto.

"Here you go, Naruto-kun."

"_Ah_!" Obito protested frantically from what sounded like a few rooms over. He must have had x-ray vision or something—not an entirely outrageous concept, since he was an Uchiha by blood—because his next words were a petulant, "No, you evil old fart! That's _my_ cookie! I saw it first!"

"Bake your own, you shameless mooch," Sakumo called back.

"_Noooooooooooooo_!" was Obito's theatrical howl.

"Eat it," Sakumo advised Naruto. "He gets too many any other time."

Obito certainly was not rushing to grab it for himself, at least. Naruto accepted it. "Thanks." While Sakura and Hinata had each made batches of cookies at one time or another, Naruto had never quite had a fresh-from-the-oven cookie before. It was soft and warm, which was odd, but he got used to it. It tasted awesome, too.

"Not that I mind your visit," Sakumo said, "but you've never stopped by before. Did something happen?"

Naruto frowned.

Obito rushed into the kitchen at that moment, anguish written across his face. He gently but firmly grabbed Sakumo by the shoulders and moved him to the side, then retrieved a small bag from a drawer, grabbed the spatula, and hurriedly began to slide the cookies from the baking sheet into the bag.

Sakumo watched, then asked, "Bad news?"

"My sister fell out of the tree by Mom's house," Obito blurted. "Trying tree-climbing without supervision. _Again_. It seems like she'll be okay, but—"

"Do you need anything else?"

Obito began to close the bag. "Yeah. I don't know what Kakashi told Itachi and Sasuke, but tell him I can't do training tomorrow, if that's what he arranged. If he could get word to them that it's canceled, that would be great. I'm afraid I don't know when I'll be available—I'll keep him informed."

"I can do that. Tell your sister and mother that I said hello and wish them well."

"Thanks. Don't wait up for me. Sorry I gotta run, Naruto. Kakashi or I will let you know when training is." The Uchiha reject darted out without waiting for a response.

Naruto looked at the empty kitchen doorway for a while, slowly chewing a chunk of the big cookie, then at Sakumo. Kakashi's father sat across the table from him. "Is it possible I can help you with something? You do seem somewhat distressed."

Naruto shook his head, but then reconsidered. Sakumo was a father, after all, and Naruto had never heard it mentioned that he was a gossip. He might be able to offer insight Obito could not. "Well, here's the thing—Dad and I had this . . . confrontation. About my . . . discipline, I guess. He just _assumed_ I was going to be trouble. Or," he acknowledged, "that was how it sounded to me. Did you and Kakashi-sensei ever have that problem?"

Sakumo chuckled. "Oh yes. More than once. It's a long story, though."

Naruto pointedly wiggled down into his seat and popped the last of the cookie into his mouth. "I don't have to be anywhere, Jiichan. Start whenever you're ready."

* * *

To be continued in . . . **Chapter 24**** – Eyes Ahead**

Sasuke would never admit it aloud, lest various people take it entirely the wrong way, but he was starting to like Sakura. Not romantically, but by way of acknowledging her skill as a ninja. Sasuke did not know enough about medical techniques to speak knowledgeably of her abilities in that realm, although seeing as her teacher was one of the Sannin and hailed as possibly the best iryounin to have ever lived, and she herself had saved various lives in various ways, he could guess that she was very skilled. What he _could_ speak of confidently were her taijutsu skills, which were terrifying, and Sasuke definitely intended to get Naruto back for not warning him about that. Kakashi, too, for that matter. Hell, he was going to have to find a way to pay back just about everyone he knew for that little omission. His old classmates were obviously all assholes like him, when it came down to it, something which he probably had to blame himself for even if he would never admit it to anyone else. He was just as bad an influence on them as they were on him with their friendship and caring and forgiveness.

* * *

**Answers To Questions You Didn't Even Know You Wanted To Ask:**

Lots of talking, I know, but it's actually very important. I meant for this chapter to have a D-rank mission in it, but I didn't want to chop up the discussion between Obito and Naruto. Then I realized I've wanted to include baker!Sakumo since forever ago but hadn't done it. Do you like him, or should I just end it here?

Chapter twenty-five will primarily involve everyone's favorite fox, but I _promise_ there will be some D-rank mission action in chapter twenty-six!

—

**…** **then the ball of a warm hand settled over his seventh cervical vertebra …**

Drop your head forward and run your hand down the back of your neck. Right about where your neck meets your shoulders is this hard lump, right? That's the spinous tubercle of your seventh cervical vertebra, which is essentially just a bony lump at the end of that particular vertebra. The other cervical vertebrae either don't have this or it's small or it's split in two. If you can feel one a little lower, that's your first thoracic vertebra, and because it's immediately below your cervical vertebrae it shares some qualities with them.

—

Should Obito have a summon? I'm not making this a poll because I have no idea personally, so there aren't exactly options for you guys to pick from. I was never intending to for Obito to summon anything, but it just jumped into my head now and it's one of those things that wouldn't be that hard to insert from time to time. So do you think Obito should have a summon, or is summoning overrated? If you think he should have one, what do you think it should be and what would be its qualities (can it talk, what's its personality, is it defensive or offensive, etc.)? Obviously, if I use your idea I will credit you.

—

It's time to play a quick game of _Draw Your Own Conclusion_! Sakumo is baking cookies for reviewers. If you review, well, duh. Context clues, y'all. Draw your own conclusion.

~RN (LS)


End file.
